Charlotte Potter: The Cat Burglar 4 - The Hell of Fourth Year
by the stargate time traveller
Summary: Charlotte has always prided herself on being a survivor. But this year the Tri-wizard tournament looms up and she is entered into it. Shunned and hated by all, Charlotte must use every ounce of skill and intellect to survive. But what will happen when someone goes too far?
1. Chapter 1 The Fourth Champion

**Disclaimer - I don't own Harry Potter. **

**My sincerest thanks to Kourtney Uzu Yato, whose amazing _One injustice Too Many, _which also features a femHarry character going through hell during the Tri-wizard tournament has inspired me with this new fic, with kind permission, so many thanks. Before anyone says anything, this story and that one is completely different, although there are similarities. **

**Please let me know what you think. **

* * *

**Charlotte Potter: The Cat Burglar.**

**The Hell of Fourth Year. **

The Goblet of Fire was about to spew out the names of the three champions who would represent the magical schools of Durmstrang, Beauxbatons, and Hogwarts. The Great Hall itself was decorated with the usual Halloween fare, and all of the tables serving the houses of the school were groaning under the weight of the food for the feast, including the cuisine of the two foreign schools.

The night was a double celebration.

Not only was the Tri-Wizard tournament about to begin, but the usual celebrations over the defeat of Lord Voldemort went on, and all of them from the teachers to the students were insensitive about how the topic sounded to the one student in the room who had suffered more on that night than anyone, but since the magical world had celebrated this occasion for as long as they could remember since the First Voldemort war had very nearly destroyed their world, and almost revealed the existence of magic to the muggles, they felt they had the right to celebrate.

Charlotte Lillian Potter was in two minds about the celebrations and the deaths of her parents; on the one hand, she could very well understand where the magical world was coming from, especially since everything she had learnt about what Voldemort and his band of terrorists had done had nearly brought magical society to its knees, and from what she could learn from the history books on the subject as well as the second-hand accounts she had picked up over the years she had felt they deserved the celebrations.

The Ministry had been close to surrendering, although Barty Crouch Senior had managed to cause tremendous harm to the Death Eaters. But Crouch's efforts were too late, Voldemort had still been a threat; Charlotte wasn't surprised to find the incompetence of the Ministry of Magic had been bad at that point, and she could see ways in how it had benefited Voldemort and the higher-ranked Death Eaters.

And the so-called secret society of vigilantes Dumbledore had set up had been ineffectual as well, although one or two members had been smart enough to see they were fighting a war.

But the war had devastated families. Children, who the magical world revered as the next generation, were slaughtered for no reason other than the fact they were termed "children of blood traitors" or some pureblood shit like that. Families dreaded going home, frightened they would find Voldemort's dark mark hovering over their home. People were going missing…

Under those conditions, Charlotte could understand where the magical world was coming from with their need to celebrate the defeat of Voldemort, although she wished Dumbledore would provide them with proof Voldemort was still out there somewhere, especially since she knew he was planning on returning.

But on the other hand…. Charlotte did feel it was insensitive the magical world were celebrating in the first place given how her parents had been murdered, but truthfully she didn't really care or give any thought about her parents. Lily and James Potter had both died a long time ago, and nothing would bring them back, not even the stories of her godfather could bring them back, although that was what he seemed to be doing.

Charlotte spooned some more apple pie into her mouth - she had a tremendous loathing towards pumpkin, and she truly did not understand how anyone could eat the stuff; one bite and she had to spit it out - letting the spiced, hot pudding drowned in creamy custard melt in her mouth while she did her best to drown out the sounds of her 'friends.' Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger were sitting near her with Charlotte sitting next to Hermione, although Charlotte was doing her best _not _to look at the redhead, whom Hermione was scolding for his lack of manners when it came to eating; Charlotte didn't know why she bothered. Ron didn't listen, that or his absolute lack of restraint made him forget everything Hermione was saying to him, and she was thankful she had learnt how to tune out the petty squabbling between the pair of them a long time ago, savouring every bite.

Growing up on the scraps that wouldn't even sate a dog at the Dursleys before she murdered them after the way they had killed a defenceless kitten whose only crime was being with her, and those years she had lived out on the streets of London and then in Brighton had resulted in her body always being thin, but until she had learnt how to steal food from supermarkets and wholesalers for her own consumption, Charlotte had managed to put on some weight to mitigate the damage the Dursleys had caused, but her body was still super thin by medical standards although it was athletic enough to not be too worrying.

She wasn't surprised the teachers at Hogwarts hadn't noticed how her Hogwarts uniform hung off of her body, but since the teachers at primary school hadn't cared neither did the witches and wizards who were the teachers at Hogwarts.

"Who do you think is going to be the champion of Hogwarts?" Ron asked, making some of the people sitting near and opposite him look away from the bits of half-chewed food being launched from his mouth like bullets from a machine gun.

Hermione grimaced at the bad manners. "Honestly Ron, how many times do I need to tell you to swallow your food before you eat?" she snapped.

Charlotte sighed and shook her head when she saw the redheaded idiot glower at Hermione angrily, and she switched off her ears before she could hear the predictable rant. While she personally felt Hermione had a point about Ron's eating habits since they were gross, she didn't know how many times Hermione could remind him of it before she gave up when she realised it was a lost cause. But then again, Hermione was stubborn and would probably keep at it until either she or Ron were both dead, or one of them tried to top the other so they wouldn't have to put up with one another year after weary year. They might be spies, but that didn't mean they had to like one another.

She inwardly shook her head. Why had Hermione agreed to spy on her? Dumbledore's talk about her, Charlotte, being in danger might have been a large part of it, but there had to be more to it than that. Weasley, however, was predictable - he just wanted her and money. Nothing more.

Still, she had to think about Ron's question, although she was dismissive about it; she didn't care about the Tri-wizard tournament, not one little bit. She could understand the idea of school competitions, particularly those with other schools, but to her, they weren't anything special since it would only take place this one year, and then it was gone. Still, Charlotte would be interested in what happened during the tournament since it would give her the time she wanted to attend to the matter of the Ponzi schemes she had drawn up in different countries from Hogwarts, which made an ideal base of operations.

How many people would suspect a con was being planned and carried out from one of the magical schools of the world?

Also, while she was at Hogwarts, she could hear from Dobby and Winky how many more people had heard about the Mona Lisa theft, and were interested in acquiring it for a private collection. She had nearly fifty copies at one of the properties she owned, but three more people had expressed interest, so she had used her Time-Turner to nip back in time so no-one would know she was gone, and she would then create new copies out of the original.

Charlotte's ears pricked up when she heard Dumbledore's voice call out the name of "Cedric Diggory" and she lifted her head, and watched as the tall dashing Hufflepuff stand up, smiling modestly as his name was called out of the Goblet of Fire, waving at his house before Professor Sprout shut them all up. She smiled genuinely when she saw him stand up; although she didn't really know the older boy that well, she liked what she had seen so far. The fact he was drop-dead gorgeous had its appeal as well.

Still, that didn't mean she wasn't nervous. This was Halloween. Charlotte hated the day with a passion; not only had her parents been murdered on this particular day, but the Dursleys had made sure to never let her forget it. Every Halloween she'd lived with them, she had lived in terror. On the streets, she'd often gotten into fights, or she had been bitterly cold. She had nearly died once.

It was just as bad in Hogwarts, and so Charlotte was remaining alert for any sign of an impending disaster, and as she watched the Goblet of Fire, she felt dread at the thought of her name coming out of the Goblet, but there was nothing she could do about it.

Charlotte listened as Dumbledore called out another name. "Viktor Krum, from Durmstrang Academy."

Cheers rang out throughout the hall as the legendary and very young Quidditch player stood up. Ron tried to whistle and cheer his approval, only to spit out bits of food again. Charlotte grimaced as she waved her wand and cleaned away the debris, and she sent a mild stinging curse his way. His squeal was music to her ears.

Another name came out of the cup. "Fleur Delacour, from Beauxbatons Academy," Dumbledore called.

Charlotte winced as the male population seemed to bellow to the heavens, which was an achievement in Charlotte's book since the boys she had seen in the presence of the French girl had been reduced to drooling, braindead puppies. but now they seemed to be united and conscious in their yells as the tall, blonde beauty rose from her seat and walked gracefully to the side room door.

Charlotte closed her eyes. _Please, _she begged. _Please let that be the end of it. I just want a nice, peaceful year. _

Silence gradually fell over the hall while Dumbledore tried valiantly to silence everyone from their cheering before the Goblet lit up again, silencing everyone in the hall.

Charlotte's heart plummeted into her stomach. _No. Please, no…_

Dumbledore snatched the note and looked at it closely before he said, "Charlotte Lilian Potter."

Charlotte felt as if every drop of blood within her body was just vanished while she noticed everyone turning to look at her startled face. She didn't breathe, she was stunned by what had happened. She had _known _Halloween was cursed, but she wished she lived as far from the British magical world as possible.

Anything for a bit of peace.

She gasped when she felt Hermione giving her a shove which jumpstarted her brain, making her take in a deep breathe while she tried valiantly to rein in her emotions with her occlumency skills, and she stood up and made her way forward. Charlotte felt as though she were marching to her death, and she didn't need to look behind her to see Ron was fuming while he glared at her. The emotional state of the school was becoming a sinkhole rapidly, everyone was claiming she was a cheat. Charlotte wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. It was ironic; here she was, the master thief who had stolen the Mona Lisa from the Louvre, the one who with the help of two House-elves had stolen the crown jewels from the Tower of London, and was orchestrating a number of Ponzi schemes while the ignorant magicals didn't know what was happening, and yet all of her confidence was being bled away from her with this bombshell.

Marvellous.

Charlotte walked into the anteroom the other champions were clustered in. When she came in, they turned to look at her.

"Do they want us back?" Fleur Delacour asked, and Charlotte could understand the reasons behind the question, but she shook her head.

"No," she replied, inwardly wondering why she would think she was a messenger girl and why she would have been chosen when there were dozens of other students in the hall.

"Then why are you in here?" Krum's accented voice asked next, looking at her without any emotion in his face.

Charlotte took a deep breathe, wondering what they'd do if she told them, although she could guess they wouldn't like it, before she could say a word, the door burst open. Before Dumbledore could say a word, someone got there first.

"Ho-Ho, I knew this was going to be good!" Ludo Bagman cried while his paunch jiggled with the motion (Charlotte was amazed the man could still even _fit into _that old Quidditch uniform, and she guessed he had used magic; there was simply no other way they could fit) while he bounced around the room with an enthusiasm Charlotte genuinely did not understand. "We now have _four _champions."

Charlotte cursed under her breath when she caught the reactions of anger and disbelief from the other champions while she cursed Bagman's excitable manner; while it certainly answered the questions about what she was doing here, she wished she could have told the older champions herself so hopefully they would see she wasn't interested in this mess.

"What?" Fleur spat, looking at the tiny dark-haired girl with contempt. "This _little girl?"_

Charlotte glared at the older girl angrily for that remark, glaring back at Fleur with equal contempt, but before she could say anything Dumbledore came rushing in. She gasped in shock when she felt his hands swing her around.

"Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire?" the old wizard practically yelled in her face.

Delighted to have someone whom she could use to vent her spleen on, especially since he had invaded her personal space and yelled which brought back memories of the Dursleys (if he hadn't done it deliberately with her deceased, unlamented relatives in mind, she would really be surprised), Charlotte shoved the old wizard off of her.

"Of course I didn't!" she snapped knowing full well she would appear to be a petulant teenager, thinking momentarily of using one of those magical oaths to prove her innocence, but Hermione had called her away just as lessons had been resuming when they had been in the library and she had pushed it out of her mind. She wished she hadn't now since it would prove to these morons she was telling the truth.

"Liar!"

"Tell the truth!"

Charlotte ground her teeth together. "Why would I put my name in the Goblet in the first place? Oh, come on - use your brains. I have more than enough fame and fortune to last anybody in this fucking room. All I wanted was to be left alone this term."

She may as well have not bothered speaking Krum's headmaster snapped, "It is not fair for Hogwarts to have two champions."

Charlotte closed her eyes. _For god's sake, what will it take before the magical world __**wakes **__up? _

"He's right," the booming voice of Madame Maxime who seemed to be the female version of Hagrid voiced her agreement of Karkaroff's statement. "Two champions gives Hogwarts an unfair advantage."

"I didn't put my name in the Goblet," Charlotte spat, glaring at the massive woman with growing rage, hearing the scoffs around her, and with her trained peripheral vision she could see Krum glaring at her although there was a dismissive expression in his face. He didn't think much of her as a competitor. Cedric looked shellshocked, but he wasn't judgemental. Fleur was looking at her with a contempt that would have put Petunia and Marge Dursley's own brands to shame.

"Liar, of course you did!" Maxime shouted, looking down at Charlotte in the same manner as Aunt Marge, at least before the fat bitch had her throat slashed. "Eternal glory, who wouldn't want that?"

"Didn't you hear what I said before?" Charlotte increased the power of her glare, letting loose some of her magical aura and noticing out of the corner of her eye some of the people in the room shuffling uncomfortably as they felt her magic surging; she knew it wasn't a good idea, especially with Dumbledore there since it would give the old wizard ideas about her control over her powers but she didn't care. "I already have that, and I can tell you, it tastes as bitter as ash."

XXX

"Dobby, Winky," Charlotte said in a corridor close to Gryffindor tower without any signs of any portraits, although by this point she didn't care if she let loose a few of her secrets. In the moment before the House-elves appeared, looking at her excitedly, Charlotte had time to think. They hadn't believed her, none of them did, although Moody had managed to convince them she couldn't have placed her name in the Goblet. But while they had listened to him, they hadn't believed him that much either.

she was in the tournament, and if she didn't compete she would lose her magic.

The sound of popping signified the arrival of her House-elves. "Missy Char!" Dobby and Winky squealed, and they hugged her tight. Charlotte closed her eyes, happy she had someone in the school willing to listen to her.

"My name has come out of the Goblet of Fire. I'm now a school champion," she said when she had pulled back and looked seriously at the two eager elves. "I also didn't like the way everyone was being. Winky, I want you to go back to the mill. It might look like I've got no other place to stay. Dobby, I want you to stay with me; if the Gryffindors turn hostile, get me and Nightstar out of the house. Okay."

The two House-elves looked at each other, shocked by what their mistress had told them, but they obeyed.

Charlotte sighed inwardly when she caught sight of the scowl on the painting of the Fat Lady as she approached. "Fortuna Major," she said the password, ignoring the distasteful tutting she got back from the portrait in return; she knew how quickly gossip spread throughout the castle, but if she needed any more proof of what she was going to get, she had it in spades now.

The door swung open - and Charlotte heard the terrified yowls of a cat. She stopped, her blood-chilling in her veins.

"NIGHTSTAR!" she screamed, whipping her wand out and blasting Ron Weasley and half a dozen other Gryffindors away from her terrified cat, summoning their wands away from them so they couldn't retaliate, but that didn't stop Ron from growling and yanking her cat up off of the ground and he attempted to grab the thrashing and frightened cat's head and actually tried to break her neck. He didn't get too far because Charlotte blasted the redhead off of her cat, and she summoned Nightstar to her chest.

After cuddling and reassuring the frightened cat it was okay, though she swore to get her checked out at the vets to make sure there was no lasting damage, Charlotte lifted her eyes and glared at the redhead. She felt such corrosive hatred towards Ron Weasley, towards the Gryffindors, and towards the bastards responsible for this mess in the first place. "You fucking _animal!" _she hissed, gazing at the bastard with hatred. "I knew you hated my cat, hell you hate _all_ cats, you miserable fuck, but I didn't know you'd go _this_ far."

"You're a cheat!" Weasley shouted as if that justified everything he had done and had tried to do. One look at the other Gryffindors, however, made Charlotte see he had made a mistake there with them since she wasn't the only cat lover in the tower, even if they were looking at her with outright contempt.

"How did you get past the age line?" a prefect demanded.

"I didn't," Charlotte stood up, still holding onto her familiar protectively. The cat was now no longer thrashing around in a panic, accepting its mistress' ministrations.

"You are a cheat!" a first-year cried.

"Shut your face, you little bastard!" Charlotte snapped. "I don't even care about the tournament."

"Then did you get someone to put your name into the Goblet of Fire?" Hermione asked, looking at Charlotte with the same stare the bushy-haired girl always got whenever there was a new mystery she just had to solve.

"No," Charlotte replied, thinking to herself if this was one of Dumbledore's little spies, then she would need to really get better at it but then again the bushy-haired cow wasn't really as smart as she'd like to brag about.

"Oh, come on, Hermione," she went on, holding back the urge to call the girl by her surname, but since her plan meant all of Dumbledore's lackeys needed to be kept off guard until the time was right, she would need to still make the idiots think they were on friendly terms, even though she didn't really want to.

"Think! Start thinking with your brain, don't let these idiots tell you otherwise; I was with you practically the whole time; when would I have had the chance to put my name into the Goblet? Why would I want fame and fortune when I've got it already? Tell me why I'd want to get into this tournament, an event where people have willingly walked into only to get themselves killed?"

Hermione looked down. There was nothing she could say, especially since Charlotte was telling the truth.

One of the Gryffindors made a dash for their wand, but Charlotte banished him away, not really regretting once more showing off her abilities. She knew Dumbledore would be informed, but that could not be helped. She banished them all into the wall, and she flicked her wand and a cloud of smoke appeared and enveloped the room. The smoke was so thick it was impossible to tell where the walls were, never mind where everyone else was, but what made it worse was they walked into each others way, and they either accused each other of being Charlotte, or they just went down hard with a yell.

By the time the Gryffindors had cleared the smoke, they found the Common Room clear of any sign of Charlotte Potter.

XXX

Charlotte sighed with relief when she found herself back in the windmill, and she smiled as she took in the familiar and cosy living room of the mill. Instantly she walked over to the wood burner and turned it on before she turned to Dobby. "Thanks, Dobby," she smiled. "Will Dumbledore figure out how I managed to get away?"

It hadn't been difficult to escape. Once she had used that smoke which was a parlour trick by magical standards, she had whispered for Dobby to come and get her away. At the same time, she had learnt a bit of her stuff was destroyed by the Gryffindor rampage, but it had been saved. Charlotte wasn't too bothered about some of it since it wasn't really important to her, but the map, the invisibility cloak, and her broomsticks were vital to her.

The House elf shook his head, his ears flapping like two sails in a wind. "No Missy Char," he replied. "Old Headmaster Whiskers won't know how I managed to get you out and away from the nasty lions."

Charlotte grimaced at the thought of the house, but before she could say anything she looked down at her familiar. Nightstar was looking around, and she meowed happily when she saw they were back home. Charlotte sighed and hugged the cat close to her. "I'm sorry, baby," she whispered, trying valiantly to push her rage down.

What kind of _sick mind _would try to do such a thing to a cat? First Vernon and Dudley, and now Ron Weasley, the fucking pig. Well, first thing tomorrow, she was getting Nightstar booked in to see the vet, to hell with Hogwarts. She closed her eyes tightly, trying hard to control her emotions so she could think - the biggest downside to occlumency was it was incredibly hard to keep focused when she just wanted to blast something to bits.

Charlotte sighed and she cuddled her cat to her chest, gaining strength just by holding her cat. Nightstar, Dobby, and Winky were the only ones whom Charlotte truly and deeply loved, and she hated the thought of being without them, but tonight had just driven it home for her that this was the only safe place for her.

But seeing what Weasley had tried to _do…._

_Never again, I'm done with them._

She had no idea who had put her name into the Goblet of Fire, but now she was a champion, she had no idea what she could do about this mess, but she intended to find out; she had not come so far only to be brought down by something like this. She would need time to research it, discover the loopholes so she could find a way out which didn't involve her death.

But she had no idea what she was going to do about Hogwarts. The students were turning against her, it was so much like a carbon copy of the mess second year had become, only she hoped it wouldn't be as bad. Charlotte shook her head while she felt the temperature of the room rise. She would sleep on the problems at hand, but first she wanted to have a bath and then she would get some sleep.


	2. Chapter 2 Hell begins

**The Hell of Fourth Year. **

**Sirius, Remus - I don't know what the fucking hell you are doing, **Charlotte began writing out the message in the messenger book, momentarily wondering if she should indeed swear in the messenger book if she needed help because she was out of her depth with the Tri-wizard tournament, but after a second decided it made little difference, **but I **_**need your help! **_**Why aren't you answering me, so-called **_**Godfather**_**? You were never there for me during my life, but you promised you would be there for me always, so why are you fucking me around now? Please…I need your help and advice with the Tri-wizard tournament. I don't want to die because I'm not prepared. So please, prove to me for the first time ever my parents made the right choice choosing you as my Godfather by actually helping. **

Charlotte knew she was crossing the line there, but she didn't care. She had already used the damn messenger book eleven times already over the past three days to try to get in touch with the two Marauders, but they never bothered to reply to her notes even though she knew they had received them.

_What the fuck is going on? _

Charlotte closed her eyes and mused. She was starting to see the two Marauders were not going to help her, and it was tempting to have Dobby take the messenger book back to the two useless dumb-arses with a scathing note sent off to the DMLE to have Sirius Black kissed so he was out of her life for good, but she decided to give him a chance. In any case, while it would be good to make Black and Lupin pay for refusing to help her, she had more important things on her mind right now. Life was becoming unbearable at Hogwarts now.

It had been four days since her name had come out of the Goblet of Fire. It was bad enough the entire school was taking potshots at her, both student and staff alike, which reminded Charlotte of how her second year had gone, but to make it worse a few of the foreigners had started picking on her as well, although thankfully most of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang mobs had opted to leave her alone. She didn't know and frankly didn't care about the reasons.

The teachers were useless, of course. It reminded her so much of how her second year had gone by, only worse. It didn't help every single time she saw McGonagall, the useless old hag refused to look at her with anything but that pinched expression on her mug. However, Charlotte had _noticed _a glimmer of what looked like pity and compassion in her so-called _Head of House's _expression, but what would have helped the most was if someone would set the record straight with the school, that way this mess wouldn't be happening. She didn't care if McGonagall was feeling uneasy about how this whole mess was going, she didn't care if the entire school was against her and that Dumbledore's eyes continued to twinkle every single time he witnessed the hell she was going through, and they were twinkling; she had seen it a dozen times. She had worked out she didn't have anyone in this school.

She had made a mistake.

She had gotten too comfortable at Hogwarts. Bad idea. She had learnt over the years never to get comfortable anywhere she went. It had kept her alive on the streets of London, and it had later kept her going because she had willed herself to live; all those near misses, when she had been a pickpocket, then later a home invader, and then a burglar. It had kept her going during those confrontations with Voldemort himself.

_Have I really let my instincts atrophy here? _

Now she had the whole fucking dump ganging on her and after her blood, so she guessed she had let her instincts atrophy in Hogwarts.

_Never again. _

Snape, typically enough, was enjoying the whole thing. He was enjoying taking off points left right and centre, and eventually, Charlotte had simply withdrawn from that fucked up class. It wasn't like she was learning anything, was it? Snape used the lessons to bully and degrade her, saying all that shit about her father, a man whom she had never met, but from what she had learnt was a worse bully than Snape could ever hope to be. The Gryffindors and Slytherins both made the lessons more toxic than they needed to be, so she was better off out. Then again, after how Malfoy had sabotaged her last potion, and some of the fucking lions had tried to poison her, was it really surprising?

Some of the teachers had joined Snape in throwing horrible comments about her around the school, which only stirred the pot even more against her. Charlotte did wonder if those teachers had been bullied by her useless father and his equally moronic friends, since some of those comments and snide remarks referred to her father, and her mum on those rare occasions. She didn't care, really; in her mind, what happened in the past had happened, there was nothing they could do about it, and it should stay that way.

Professor Sprout had become even worse to her and appeared to make Snape appear to be an amateur. It had become so bad she had simply decided not to bother attending Herbology classes, which made the soiled bitch take-off point after point from her. Sprout didn't realise Charlotte didn't care about Gryffindor anymore, although she had to wonder if the head of house was taking the points off to also make all the other Gryffindors hate her even more.

Charlotte grimaced as she thought of the Gryffindors. Throughout the entire mess so far, she had been hounded in the corridors, chased, cursed and screamed at. Many students threatened her to confess she had put her name in the Goblet. She refused to be cowed though, and she had begun putting notice-me-not and disillusionment charms on herself so she could study up, and also listen in so she could stay one step ahead of the curve, and make her plans up accordingly.

But the Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs were taking the lead in hunting her down and making her life hell. Ron Weasley had become the de facto leader of Gryffindor in making her life a misery. It wouldn't last of course; Weasley was all talk with very little bark, and besides he preferred using his fists to get his points across, and in any case it was only a matter of time before it blew over anyway, and while it was tempting to summon one of the acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest, and simply shove it in the same dorm room, and piss it off so it would lash out at the redheaded piece of piss, she had opted not to.

She would do it if the redheaded bastard pushed her a certain way, but for right now she was trying to keep ahead of the curve, and she was also trying to practice her magic by infiltrating the various classes based on higher magical levels while she had Dobby and Winky remain alert for any signs of what the first of the three tasks was going to be, and at the same time she had had one of her elves look for anything related to the rules of the tournament.

There was no way she was going to leave this year in a coffin.

XXX

Later that morning Charlotte wondered how the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were able to find her so easily. It had started when Hannah Abbot had shouted her name, and suddenly it had become an all-out war. Charlotte grimaced as she had to blink when a particularly bright spell smashed into her shield before she sent another curse their way.

_Fuck, they really did choose the right place for an ambush, _she thought to herself while she decided to play dirty.

The Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors were taken aback by the basic household spells Charlotte used in the fight, while she also used transfiguration and charm work to her advantage; at first her attackers jeered and mocked her, but they stopped when she began using cutting curses and stinging hexes which took them by surprise, especially since she was able to cast silently.

Charlotte inwardly smirked while she let her more devious side come out to play while she fired a few more curses before she transfigured the floor they were on into ice. The sudden transformation of the stone floor into ice made the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs shriek with shock before they slipped and fell.

As they were groaning, Charlotte summoned their wands and threw them away before she walked off.

"We will get you back for that Potter! Your parents made a mistake in keeping you safe, you bitch!" Ernie McMillan shouted.

Charlotte slowed down her walk to a full stop. She turned back and rushed back at Ernie, who screamed in shock and horror while the furious witch flicked her wand twice at the others, and before their horrified eyes she began punching Ernie in the face. Ernie cried out in pain as Charlotte punched him in both eyes, and once in the jaw. She sneered.

"If I had a glass jaw, I wouldn't draw attention to myself, pal," Charlotte snapped while she punched and kicked Ernie.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" a spell hit Charlotte and pushed her off of Ernie, and she was sent hurtling back into a wall. Pushing the pain away, she looked up and found herself looking at Professor Sprout.

_Brilliant! The Head duffer bitch herself. How the hell does she know when to turn up? Crap, she must have been here the whole time, the bitch. _

"As if you weren't in enough trouble already, you launch an unprovoked attack on innocent students," Sprout whispered, but Charlotte could see the happy twinkle in the woman's eye. It made the fourth year witch wonder to herself just _how much _the Head of Hufflepuff actually knew. But she decided it made little difference.

She wasn't going to attend any detention this woman gave out.

"Ninety-eight points from Gryffindor. Detention tonight, _Miss Potter," _Sprout said finally, the sadistic smirk on her face which, ironically enough, would have looked equally at home on Snape's ugly face clear.

Charlotte said nothing. She also saw the looks she was getting from the others in the corridor. The Gryffindors were torn between delight at what they had done and horror for what she had done to Ernie, and fury over losing so many points. The Hufflepuffs were torn as well, between fear and anger over what she had done to Ernie, and pleasure over what their head of house had just done. Charlotte didn't care.

Unknown to her and even Professor Sprout, someone else had witnessed the event…

XXX

Charlotte was on her way to the disused classroom she and Dobby had both arranged to use for arrivals and departures while the rest of the school were having their dinner. It had been a rough day, but she had no intention of attending the detention she had for tonight. No chance in hell, and if Professor Sprout didn't like it, well that was just too fucking bad, and if McGonagall brought it up, she would ignore the older witch as well.

She clenched her fist around the holly and phoenix feather wand in her pocket as she kept her eyes open for anyone lurking nearby ready to attack. She had had to fend off several major ambushes today, but she hadn't used any curses herself; no, she'd simply reflected their own curses back on her attackers, but one curse had impacted her wand, cracking the wand shaft and splitting it. Her wand was becoming unstable and dangerous to use, but that didn't matter to her since she had a custom made wand, but she wanted to keep it secret until it was needed.

It had taken time, but Dobby had managed to find a copy of the Tri-wizard by-laws, and it took another bit of digging before she found something very interesting, and it made her question Dumbledore's motivations even more. As her headmaster, Dumbledore could have ruled her out of the Tri-wizard due to her age, regardless of whether or not she had entered or not; the presiding Headmaster or Headmistress had the final say over who participated, and if he or she approved then they would simply remain silent. If not…

_Dumbledore __**wants **__me in the tournament, _she thought to herself as her mind followed the thought through to its logical conclusion. It also made another leap. The last tournament took place in 1792, it was 2004 now so that made it 212 years ago. The last time it happened, thirty-six people had been killed, including all three champions of the three participating schools. Hardly a good pitch for the next one. Indeed, the Headmaster of Durmstrang had raised all kinds of hell over the deaths, it wasn't helped the Beauxbatons and Hogwarts teachers, who had cared then, had done the same. And the whole idea was buried.

_So why bring it back now?_

Charlotte thought about it as she walked closer to the classroom, but she didn't have any more time to think because she met two Gryffindors, who were looking at her grimly. Charlotte knew they weren't in her year group, but that didn't matter.

Instantly Charlotte stopped and pulled out her wand and she prepared to defend herself, but the Gryffindors didn't react. "You're wanted in the Great Hall, Potter," one of them said.

"Why?"

"Just come with us."

Charlotte mulled it over in her mind, doubting very much they wanted to talk to her. The first thing that crossed her mind was they were leading her into an ambush, but that didn't seem consistent with the typical Gryffindor impulsiveness. It was also highly doubtful the Gryffindors had changed their tune, but still, she wanted to know what this was all about. She nodded slowly but said nothing, and she refused to let go of her hold on her wand; if this was an ambush, she wanted to be ready.

The two Gryffindors led her to the Great Hall and saw the entirety of Gryffindor was seated at the table and none of them was eating. They were definitely waiting for her, although she didn't know what was going to happen here now. The moment everyone saw her, Charlotte saw the looks of barely hidden glee on so many faces.

Ron Weasley stood up on the table. "Charlotte Lillian Potter," he yelled, "you have shamed Gryffindor House for the last time for refusing to confess you placed your name into the Goblet of Fire. You have one final chance to confess, of you will be disowned and cast out from Gryffindor."

Charlotte felt all eyes on her but she used the few seconds to mull. She had found the right wording for the magically binding oath which she knew would get her out of this hell, but the more she had thought it through, she had decided it just wasn't worth it. Yeah, she could make it clear to the few people in this hall she was not a cheat, but in the long run, it wouldn't help. It wouldn't stop the next mess from happening. It might have seemed childish, but she decided to keep silent.

She had already worked out for herself she was not a Gryffindor.

She had no place in the house, and she had no place in Hogwarts. She was going to study for and sit her OWLs and NEWTs, and then she was going to leave and never look back.

She took a deep breath. "Wonderful speech," she even clapped sarcastically, knowing it would rile Weasley up even more. "Who wrote it? It seems a bit too eloquent for you. Did the beaver write it for you?" she asked, knowing the childish insult would upset Granger.

Hermione looked down, and Charlotte couldn't bring it in herself to actually care, not even when she saw the sparkle of tears in the brunette's eyes while Weasley's face flushed past red, and dangerously close to dark purple, but she reached up and tore off the Gryffindor badge.

"I, Charlotte Lillian Potter, do hereby renounce all of my ties to Gryffindor house," she announced and threw the badge onto the ground, flicking her wand into her hand, and she fired a curse straight at Ron, who was taken by surprise. Weasley let out a gurgling scream as the curse shattered his teeth, but Charlotte was out of the door before anyone could reach her.

The teachers, who had just been sitting at the head table, immediately rushed out to find her, but when they got there Charlotte was gone.

XXX

"This has gone on LONG ENOUGH, ALBUS!" Filius Flitwick shouted as he glared at the serene form of Dumbledore. "How much longer is this unjustified hatred towards Miss Potter going to continue?"

"I admit the disowning of her house was unexpected-," the elderly wizard began, but he was interrupted.

"Unexpected?! It should never have happened, in _the first place!" _McGonagall screamed, but Dumbledore was unmoved. "Albus, this ban has gone on long enough. You told us Charlotte _couldn't have placed her name in the Goblet, _and yet you refused for some reason passing understanding, to announce it to the school at large. Just one word from us, from _you, _and this mess would never have happened."

Dumbledore was still serene, and everyone wondered what was going on in his mind. "I understand your concerns, but we can do nothing. But now, we need to discuss ways of getting Charlotte to forgive the Gryffindors-."

"Are you insane? That is never going to happen," Flitwick snapped, wondering not for the first time if all the fame and accolades, as well as power and age, had done something to Dumbledore's brain.

"Now, now; I shall speak to Charlotte personally. Once I am finished, she will rejoin the Gryffindors."

Flitwick stared at Dumbledore in shock. He could not believe what he was hearing. "She disowned them, Albus. She must have realised she would never be accepted there ever again, so she decided to take matters into her own hands. I don't think she would want _**anything **_to do with the Gryffindors, not anymore."

The half-goblin professor had been at Hogwarts for a long time. Indeed, he had taught Dumbledore himself, and back then Flitwick had been awed by Dumbledore's impressive intellect. Well, both him and Aberforth, really; but where the other Dumbledore just wanted to be left alone and live a quieter life, he hadn't been a slouch.

But now, Flitwick wondered if Dumbledore was becoming senile. It certainly seemed that way, given how questionable his choices were.

McGonagall nodded in agreement. "I agree with Filius, Albus; I heard stories from the portraits inside the Gryffindor common room. Ron Weasley was prepared to snap the neck of Charlottes' cat for no reason whatsoever. Forgiveness is not on the cards, but you don't seem to realise that she isn't going to forgive or forget what Weasley almost did."

"You should never have banned us from stopping this madness from going too far," one of the more neutral teachers pointed out.

Snape sneered. "The girl is spoilt. What she needs is a bit of humbling."

"Oh, and you're going to do that, are you Severus?" Flitwick glared at the potions master. "We all know you are constantly thinking about how James bullied you, but you refuse to grow up and be a man for a change instead of being stuck in the mindset of that emo teen who followed the Death Eaters because you thought they were onto a good thing. Do you know what's ironic? For all your hatred, you have become like James. A miserable, good for nothing bully."

Snape snarled. "I'm nothing like him."

"Oh, yes you are; the only difference between you two is James never bullied someone who couldn't fight back!" Flitwick shot back, and he sneered when Snape snarled and the potions master dug his hand into his pocket where the half-goblin knew he kept his wand. "Go ahead, Severus; I won't be duelling, I'll be fighting."

"That is enough!" Dumbledore swiftly intervened. He had called this meeting to discuss ways of getting Charlotte to forgive the Gryffindors, but it was slipping out of his control.

His plan to force the girl into the tournament was going well. Voldemort should have really thought this particular plan out carefully, especially if he truly believed he didn't know Alastor had been replaced by a Death Eater through polyjuice potion. While the Death Eater was a good actor, his occlumency training was very patchy, and Dumbledore had seen through the disguise. It also helped he had ways of monitoring those who he called a friend.

In any case, even if Voldemort - Tom Riddle really did need a reality check if he honestly thought he was a good planner and manipulator - hadn't gotten the Girl Who Lived into the tournament, Dumbledore would have ensured it anyway. He had been counting on the tournament to toughen the girl up, but even he had limits on what he would allow.

Dumbledore had counted on Charlotte being victimised, but he hadn't counted on the disowning part of Gryffindor. In Dumbledore's mind, that was unforgivable and unacceptable. He _needed _the girl in Gryffindor where she could be watched by his spies. He was angry with Granger and Weasley, but he had decided not to do anything for the time being.

Not even when he had heard about what Ronald had tried to do to Charlotte's cat, although it had dented his surety the girl would forgive Weasley.

He had known from the off once it was proven she wouldn't have wanted to be in the tournament, both Granger and Weasley would flock to her side, and all would be forgiven. The sudden casting out had surprised him, but what had horrified him the most was Charlotte gladly leaving Gryffindor.

He needed to get her back into Gryffindor, but by now he knew deep down it was too late.

"No, it's not!" Flitwick snapped. "This tournament has torn the atmosphere in this school to _shreds. _Hogwarts is meant to be a place for learning, to teach the new generations the ways of magic, it isn't meant to be a battleground where students and teachers can gang up on other students, while waiting behind corners ready to jump out and punish the student if they fight back, like you did Pomona?"

Sprout looked at her long-time colleague with shock.

Flitwick mentally rolled her eyes. This was one of the problems with some Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors these days; they were so fixated by their own stereotypes they couldn't see past them. Pomona would never know the meaning of the word subtlety even if it jumped out in front of her.

"I was there. I was about to intervene when I saw Charlotte being attacked by members from your house, and yours as well Minerva," he added, looking at his colleague although not with scorn since he himself was guilty of that, "and she managed to defeat them. She had turned to just leave when Mr McMillan yelled her parents should never have protected her. She turned around and started attacking him muggle style as if to prove he isn't worth being cursed, and then you Pomona came and started berating her when you had heard every word. I can prove it with my memory."

Sprout was too taken by surprise by the attack she couldn't say a word.

"You know, this reminds me of Miranda Pond, you remember her, Albus? The girl whom you fixated about over twenty-five years ago, and a member of my house. Strangely enough, you started trying to give her special lessons, but despite being a Ravenclaw, she was not interested. When she was accused of cursing a number of Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, you tried to sweep into the rescue, even when you Pomona began bullying her. Do you remember what I did when you went too far?" Flitwick snapped.

Silence reigned in the staff room.

Miranda Pond was not someone who was usually brought up. She was a muggle-born witch, very bright and very powerful. She had a natural gift with Charms, runes, potions, and several other magical subjects. For some reason, Dumbledore had fixated about the girl when she had attended Hogwarts for some reason none of the other teachers had understood. He had made sure everyone kept a watch on her while he began to test her. Many of the teachers had noticed Dumbledore had a _modus operandi _where he would choose a student, or something would come along to make him deliberately choose a particular student, and he would then start obsessing over them.

He would push them through test after test, some of them becoming more dangerous.

As a muggle-born, Miranda hadn't had a chance, although it had been surprising he would go for a muggle-born although he never said why he had chosen her in the first place and no-one had asked since Dumbledore would never tell them.

It also didn't help Miranda had begun fearing for her wellbeing, especially when she was framed in her second year for something she hadn't done. The girl had gone to Flitwick, hoping for a way out, only for the charms teacher, now much to his own regret, to turn her away. When proof turned up she hadn't done it, Miranda had refused to trust or even forgive any of the teachers. In her third year, Dumbledore had seen to it she received special lessons, but she refused to attend them. Flitwick had tried to persuade her otherwise, but she had refused. She had risked expulsion, but she hadn't cared.

It got worse.

In her fourth year, all Miranda wanted was to be left alone, but that time was worse. She had been accused of attacking a few members from the different houses with dark magic. She was instantly the pariah again, and all the Heads had gone out of their way to make her life a misery.

Even Flitwick, who felt bad about it all, had been off with her, and although he had stopped Pomona from going too far, he hadn't made life easier for the Ravenclaw muggle-born girl.

Dumbledore had waited for the right opportunity to step in and act as the dramatic knight in shining armour, or robes in this case, and save the day.

Unfortunately, Miranda had taken her own life. She hanged herself in one of the classrooms, leaving behind a truly scathing note, the contents of which Flitwick was still haunted by.

Miranda's death had haunted his life for years, and he had promised himself never to let Dumbledore try this again with another student. Dumbledore himself had been horrified by the suicide, more so because he had been heard muttering under his breath "_this should never have happened," _although no-one knew what that meant.

Dumbledore said stiffly, "This will not be a repeat of _that time, _I assure you Filius."

"Oh, but I think it will. Unless you remove the ban and let us help her, this is going to blow up in your face, Albus!" the little professor snapped.

"I am sorry, but the ban must remain."

Flitwick sighed. "This is going to blow up in your face, Albus," he warned darkly, "you have played this stupid game with too many people, and it always blows up in your face, and ours. Tom Riddle and Miranda Pond were bad enough, but now you want to make another innocent orphan girl tread down that path…this time, I hope you pay the price for your arrogance."

* * *

I admit I made up the figures for the deaths of the last Tri-wizard tournament, but I felt it would be a good move since the higher loss of life would make the idea of the tournament look unattractive. I also made up the story for Miranda Pond because I felt Dumbledore has this annoying habit of fixating on students who appeal to him, and he pushes them through one mess after another without looking to the long term. Miranda just about had enough, and so she committed suicide... Or did she?


	3. Chapter 3 A Friend

**The Hell of Fourth Year. **

Flitwick watched Charlotte out of the corner of his eye for the moment with concern for a moment before he turned to the lesson. The tiny professor was only just getting into his stride when someone called out. "Professor, Potter's not paying attention."

Flitwick turned to study the young witch and he saw now she was pale in the face and her eyes kept blinking rapidly as if she was trying desperately to remain awake. "Miss Potter, is everything alright?" he asked with concern.

She looked at him as if realising he was speaking to her. "Yes, sir?" she asked in a whisper, getting the two words out with difficulty.

"May I ask why you're not paying attention?" Flitwick asked, trying hard to appear friendly to this girl who was going through so much although he was concerned by how pale she was.

Charlotte breathed in a raspy breath and keeled over on the desk. It made many of the class roll their eyes, and the jeers started.

"How pathetic are you, Potter?"

"What's the matter, didn't you get your nap, you big baby?"

Any further jeers were drowned out when a small bang went off from Flitwick's wand, and all of the jeers were silenced instantly.

The little charms master was furious. "That is enough! I will not tolerate this type of behaviour in my classroom; some of the other teachers may tolerate it, but you are in this school to learn how to become fully-fledged adult witches and wizards, and this behaviour will not be tolerated in this room. Now be silent!"

He made his way over to Charlotte, and he gasped when he saw she had a terrible slash wound on her back. "Miss Potter, how did this happen?" he squeaked.

"Slashed in the back," she muttered.

Flitwick gaped with horror at the injury. The back of Charlotte's school robe was slashed, and he could see the uniform jumper and shirt underneath were just as slashed, bloodied with red. He quickly waved his wand over the injury, and his horror grew as the scan picked up signs of other injuries the girl had sustained. Some of the injuries were not too serious, and many of the curses had been dispelled before they could do any lasting damage, but the latest injury had done damage to some of Charlotte's organs.

"You shouldn't be in here with this type of injury, Miss Potter," Flitwick tried hard to keep himself calm, furious not just with himself for meekly going along with Dumbledore's stupid ban which brought back awful memories of Miranda Pond, and all the others whom the so-called headmaster had obsessed with during their times at Hogwarts before they either left or became monsters, or simply bowed their heads and became puppets for the old fool, but he was also furious with the other teachers as well. "You should be in the Hospital Wing-."

"No!" Charlotte somehow managed to find the reserves of strength needed to spit the refusal out of her mouth, and the malice contained in her voice took the tiny professor by surprise. "I _am not going anywhere near _that bitch who calls herself a healer; I went to her the other day when I got an injury which broke my right arm. She turned me away without a thought. The moment she saw me, she just told me to get out and to stop faking. If you think I'm going near that fucking bitch, you have another thing coming."

Flitwick couldn't believe it, no. Poppy would never do such a thing…. He _didn't _want to believe it, but almost as though his thoughts were broadcasted to the young witch, she turned her head and he saw, to his horror, she was telling the truth, but what made the look even more horrifying was the almost dead look in her eyes. There was only a small fraction of life in them to tell Flitwick the girl was still _alive. _

_**What the hell was going on with Hogwarts?**_

Flitwick was becoming frightened by everything that was happening.

"Just get on with the class, Professor," the girl whispered.

"But I can't leave you like this-!" Flitwick protested.

"Yes, you can," Charlotte spat before she glared at him, and Flitwick found himself taking a step back at the dead look there which was mixed with anger and bitterness. "None of you has cared about your students before, why start now?"

_Why start now? _

The words reverberated around his mind, and Flitwick was reminded again of Miranda Pond, and how she had just become so tired of what had happened each and every year, and how he had not helped matters much despite his best attempts to mitigate the worst of the attacks on her person. Not for the first time, he cursed himself for once more helping Dumbledore do more harm to the students of Hogwarts with his stupid games.

"At least let me try, Miss Potter," he said quietly while he tried hard to stop himself from recoiling at the sight of those two emerald green eyes which looked so much like Lily's, only there was little life there.

"Try what?" the girl reared back.

Filius did his best to hide how worried he was now, although he was becoming terrified now. Charlotte reminded him of a wounded animal trying to protect herself, and he couldn't blame her.

_Merlin, what the __**hell **__have you been through? _he thought with pity and terror for the daughter of one of his favourite student, and his anger and contempt for Dumbledore returned.

"Let me try to heal you now," he said, "I might not be great with some healing spells, but I do have some experience."

The look Charlotte sent him made Flitwick feel even worse than before. It was clear the girl didn't believe him and his offer for help. She stared at him unblinkingly with those dead-looking emerald green eyes of hers, clearly trying to see for herself whether she could trust him or not.

_Damn you, Dumbledore, and your plans…How many more children are you going to torture simply because you are so taken in by your own legend and delusions of Godhood? _Flitwick fought to keep his temper under control, but it was virtually impossible. He was relieved when Charlotte seemed to accept his offer of help, but he could see how guarded she was.

"Go ahead," she whispered so quietly he almost missed it.

Flitwick raised his wand, knowing he would need to call upon all of his training in the magical healing arts just to get this right. He flicked his wand, and the injury was sealed up. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the injury was healed, but he had no expertise on how to deal with the blood loss.

"There, I've sealed the injury up, but you should think about how you're going to deal with the blood loss, Miss Potter," he said.

"Thank you," Charlotte said after a minute, looking like she couldn't believe she was even saying such words to a Hogwarts professor.

Flitwick tried to smile back at the young witch even though he was truly worried for her, although as he looked at it, he wasn't too surprised the young witch clearly still didn't trust the Hogwarts staff, and why should she after everything she had been through?

"You're welcome, Miss Potter," he said, and he walked back to the front of the classroom to resume the lesson.

As he continued with the lesson after needing a few moments to remember what he was going to say since the horror he had felt towards the young witch's pain and her lack of trust in the staff of the school, which wasn't too shocking since none of the teachers had really bothered to help the girl once ever since she had stepped in through the door.

So many of the teachers had their own ideas of what the girl should be like. Severus was the worst with his vitriolic rants of how Charlotte was _arrogant like her father_, but no-one was interested in helping her.

Charlotte had been hurt so badly over the years she refused to trust anyone, but what really frightened and worried Flitwick the most was the fact Poppy refused to help the girl, which went against her oath as a healer. What was she playing at? Surely she knew what would happen if she refused to help a patient?

Flitwick didn't know, but he knew he was not going to look forward to the staff meeting. When the bell rang, at last, Charlotte was the first person to leave the room.

XXX

"Filius, is everything alright?" Poppy asked as he walked into the hospital wing office and found she wasn't in the ward itself, realising it was the most logical place to look.

The tiny charms master shook his head while he flicked his wand to erect a few silencing wards around the room. "No, it's not. I have just had to heal a student who was turned away by you."

Poppy looked at him with surprise although she was surprised by Flitwick putting up the wards even if she said nothing about it, knowing this must be an intense conversation in the making if Flitwick would go that far to ensure privacy. "What? Who was the student? What happened?"

"You heard me correctly, Poppy. The student is Charlotte Potter," Flitwick paused so he could gauge the school healer's reaction, surprised he even needed to tell her whom she'd pushed away. He saw her look down at her feet. She seemed genuinely regretful, but Filius could not find it within himself to reassure her. "She received a terrible injury to her back which caused her to lose a lot of blood. I managed to stop it, but when I told her she needed to see you, she was vehemently opposed to it; she said, and I quote '_I am not going anywhere near that bitch who calls herself a healer; I went to her the other day, when I got an injury which broke my right arm. She turned me away without a thought. The moment she saw me, she just told me to get out and to stop faking. If you think I'm going near that fucking bitch, you have another thing coming.'"_

Flitwick paused so he could see what Poppy was thinking. The nurse looked shaken and horrified that anyone, particularly someone who had been in her ward frequently would say that about her, but she looked down. "It was Dumbledore. He used his power as _**Headmaster**_," she spat the word with disgust and shame, "to stop me from checking on her."

"But why?" Flitwick demanded, horrified. What made it worse was he wasn't really surprised.

"I have no idea. I don't even know what is going through that manipulative bastard's mind," Poppy walked over to the window, clearly agitated, so it took a moment for her calm herself and assemble her thoughts. "This is not the first time Dumbledore has made me do this to a student, and like you with his hold over you as the headmaster of Hogwarts, I can't do anything about it. But it's worse for me because I have to just look _into the eyes of the students, _and then say _no."_

Flitwick licked his lips. He hadn't known about this. "Who were the students?"

Poppy sighed. "There have been so many it's hard to keep track, but you should know one of the names."

It was Flitwick's turn to sigh. "Miranda Pond."

"Yes."

"I was thinking about her the other day," Flitwick whispered sadly. "I never felt more ashamed of my profession until I saw her body swinging from that noose."

"I know. Miranda is just one of a small number of people who've been pushed by Albus for reasons I will never understand," Poppy said. "What's Dumbledore's current stance, its been weeks since the Goblet chucked out the names of the champions."

Flitwick sighed. "No change, there's still a ban. I don't understand him. I remember teaching him when he was a student, back then he had been a genius with a thoughtful intellect, always three steps ahead. Now? He seems so sure of himself it isn't funny. He is convinced Charlotte will just forgive the Gryffindors, and all will be well even though Ron Weasley tried to break her cat's neck."

"Nightstar? That will never happen; Charlotte _loves _cats, and she absolutely hates it whenever someone hurts them, especially her own. Last year, she brought Nightstar to me after Weasley cursed the cat."

"What for?"

"I don't know, but I can tell you one thing; Charlotte was dangerously close to doing something nasty to him, and truthfully it would have been a lesson Weasley could have done learning about."

Flitwick wondered how that had gone. "Dumbledore is convinced Charlotte will forgive the Gryffindors, even if they wanted to cast her out."

Poppy scoffed. "That will never happen. Filius, I know Charlotte Potter." She closed her eyes. "Contrary to Severus, I know the girl since I spend more time with her, even more than Minerva. And she is not the forgiving type; if you push her the wrong way, she will just lash out back again. She is tough. She might _share _some of James and Lily's traits, but what Snape and Dumbledore and even Minerva fail to understand is she's her own person. Hermione Granger once came in here after Charlotte was injured in her first year, and gave her a load of potions homework. Severus had written some really nasty comments, comparing her to James. I saw them, but Charlotte was apathetic. She _truly does not care _about Snape or his feelings towards James. Nor does she really care about their history. I asked her about it, and she said if Snape wants to argue with her father, she can arrange it. She said it so darkly and I saw a dark glint in her eye which Lily never had before, and then it was gone."

"What happened then?" Flitwick asked.

Poppy looked turned to him. "Filius, I was there on the battlefield during the Grindelwald war. I saw the murderous look in some of that man's followers. I saw the same look in Charlotte's eyes, although it was more calculating; she quickly remembered where she was, and it went away, but it was there. I have never told anyone, not even Albus. I knew if I did he might try something with her, but I don't think she's dark or evil. I think she's someone who has been forced to do terrible things in order to survive. We know she grew up on the streets of London after her relatives died, who knows what she had to deal with?"

Flitwick didn't know how to respond to the influx of information he'd just received so he moved on. "I remember being so happy she was coming, but she was always in the background….," he said.

"Don't be fooled. I think Gryffindor had a Slytherin in their midst," Poppy interrupted.

This was news to Flitwick, and the little professor frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Just that. Charlotte has so many characteristics of that house I have no doubt Salazar Slytherin himself would have given his_ lungs _just to have her there. She's not the bigoted moronic type that inhabits that House, she's cunning and she is dangerous. You can see glimmers of it from time to time. I'm worried, not just about her, but for the champions and anyone else who gets in her way."

"Do you think she's dangerous to the school?"

Poppy Pomfrey had spent more time with Charlotte than anyone else so she had a greater insight into the fourth year girl's personality. "She can be, and considering what's going on, can you blame her?"

"No," Flitwick suddenly chuckled as a thought popped into her mind. "I would like to have seen Severus' face if she had been sorted into his house."

Poppy chuckled as well. "Especially since he's fixated on her, telling everyone she's a female version of James. That's not fair - she might physically look like a blend between her parents, but Charlotte is someone unique. I just wish she had gone into Slytherin; it might mean we wouldn't have to keep hearing how "_arrogant like her father" _she is from Severus all the time."

Flitwick closed his eyes. "I wish he would grow up and be a man for a change," he grumbled. "He keeps comparing her to James, saying she needs to humble, and yet in his own little world he was nothing but an innocent victim."

"That's far from the truth, and everyone who taught the two knows that," Poppy agreed as she remembered the curses Snape and his Junior Death Eater buddies cast on other students, especially muggle-borns. "James never picked on those who didn't have a hope of being able to fight back. But Snape has become a miserable bully, I can't help but hope he gets it back in spades."

Although she agreed with him since Severus needed to be brought down to Earth by a few broomsticks, Poppy closed her eyes and turned to Flitwick. "Do you know who cast that curse on her?"

"No, but I do know this… from what you've told me, we might have a ticking time-bomb on our hands. I just wish I understood what Dumbledore was doing. It's almost like he's trying to drive people to the dark. He's done it with Tom Riddle, who became You-Know-Who, and we know what that one tried to do in the seventies and eighties. But what frightens me the most is Dumbledore isn't learning anything from his mistakes and is now trying to destroy the life of another young orphaned student. It's almost as if he wants to create dark lords."

"I wouldn't be surprised if she does snap," Poppy warned. "But Charlotte isn't like You-Know-Who; she doesn't _care _about the Ministry of Magic, and she definitely _doesn't give a damn _about ruling anyone. She has said more than once she just wants to be left alone. Did you hear how Draco Malfoy and Charlotte got into a fight two years ago?"

Flitwick looked up sharply. "I do remember. Severus wanted to kick her out, he clamoured for it before Charlotte showed us a memory of what young Mr Malfoy had actually done. He threatened to rape her, going into great detail about it, when they neared graduation. Albus had no choice but to overturn it, especially since she sent the memory off to the ICW, after that there was nothing the Malfoys or Fudge could do about it."

Poppy chuckled a little before her expression tightened. "Filius, I spoke to Charlotte after the incident; she'd been given a detention for something unrelated. Malfoy was still here, still injured since he had been hit with a nasty curse which made it hazardous just to move him. She took one look at him and sneered. I asked her if she felt sorry for him. She said no, she said if anyone tried to touch her, she would make them watch as she went after their family before snapping their necks. Charlotte Potter is dangerous if you push her the wrong way, otherwise she's as gentle as a kitten. I am worried about the tournament, Filius. This might be the time where Charlotte _really _becomes dangerous, and Dumbledore will have to watch as another student he's poked and prodded and manipulated so many times becomes unstable."

_Oh, Lily, I wish you were here to protect your daughter, _Flitwick thought as he listened to what the school healer had to say with horror that grew within him.

XXX

"This has gone on long enough, Albus!" Flitwick yelled as soon as he went through the staffroom and saw the elderly wizard sitting serenely in his chair.

"Has something occurred, Filius?" Dumbledore asked as the Charms master approached his chair.

"Yes, I just had to treat Miss Potter after she had been slashed in the back with an overpowered cutting spell. The curse even damaged some of her _vital organs. _And thanks to your ban preventing Poppy from doing anything and even turning her away when the worst of this insanity injures her, she refused to go anywhere near the Hospital Wing. She could have bled to death."

"That would never have happened," Dumbledore didn't even sound concerned, but Flitwick had known the Headmaster long enough to know when the old fool was really interested and he was now.

Knowing Dumbledore was playing this off although he was calculating how bad the injury was, Flitwick sighed. "Albus, please…stop this madness before it is too late. Lift the ban. Allow us to help her, or do you want a repeat of Miranda Pond? What about Stephen Thorn? Tom Riddle?"

Dumbledore's eyes blazed. "I have everything under control, Filius."

"Do you? You are encouraging the entire school, including _two __**foreign **_schools to abuse a girl who should be protected, not pushed into one mess of your own making after another. How much longer will it be before she snaps?" Flitwick asked while he mentally kept watch on every word he uttered in case he said something he would regret; some of the things Poppy had told him had frightened him, and he didn't want the healer to be interrogated by Dumbledore if he put two and two together.

Flitwick grumbled when he saw Dumbledore looking supremely unconcerned, and so he walked away. But Dumbledore was anything but unconcerned.

Dumbledore sighed, mentally drawing back the anger he felt towards the charms master for bringing up some of his failures. He had wanted the students to toughen the targets for some of his long term plans before he swooped in to recover them, and give them the aid they needed. But it still wasn't time for him to help Charlotte. He needed a bit more time to wait until her morale was down to a minimum.

The plan he had drawn up for the Girl-Who-Lived was still on track. While he had lost sight of her when she had been a child and the Dursleys were killed, and there was nothing he could have done to find the child then, he had been unconcerned when he had found out she was actually alive since it meant his plans could proceed.

Part of the plan had been to ensure she would become friendly with the Weasley family, who would keep watch over her while making sure she didn't have much contact with other students, specifically those children whose families were long-time allies of the Potters. The alliance between the families - Potter, McMillan, Bones, Longbottom, and Greengrass - had been one of the biggest power blocs in magical history, and for centuries it had existed and it had done so much for their world, progressing and growing the magical world as it went.

Dumbledore had hated the alliance because its agenda was opposite what he wanted. He believed the magical world should never change, and he had long since given up trying to make them see his philosophy. The deaths of Lily and James Potter had given him an opportunity he had not expected, and he wrote in his plan to find a way of using Charlotte Potter to break the alliance once and for all. It only came into fruition in the girl's first year, and it worked perfectly.

It was so simple.

The children of the alliance would have been told by their parents to become friends with other members of the alliance, and they couldn't do so with Charlotte Potter, the heiress of the Potter family and the last member of that family still alive, if the girl refused to see them thanks to messages from Ron Weasley who would have been told to turn them away.

The Hufflepuffs would just accept it, seeing as the members of that house were beyond gullible it was stupid, and Daphne Greengrass would have been told Charlotte thought she was evil since she had a snake badge on her chest, and Neville Longbottom was a coward by nature.

Getting rid of them was not so difficult.

The black mark against the family would be considerable, although not for long, and then he would reap the rewards when the girl died during her last confrontation with Voldemort, and then he would step in and finish the Dark Lord off.

For the whole of Charlotte's first year, some of the children had tried approaching Charlotte to speak with her, only for Ronald and then later Hermione Granger, whom he had persuaded to do the same, telling her those children were bad influences, but it wasn't until the next year with the release of the basilisk, the first cracks had appeared in the alliance. It was only a matter of time before it collapsed, and Dumbledore's own political agenda would have little opposition. With the Tri-wizard tournament on, the cracks were deepening into fissures. It was only a matter of time before the real results came.

But what amazed him the most was that Charlotte had not come to him for help. Surely she knew he could be trusted?

Dumbledore decided to wait for a few more days before he made his move. The more time he put this off the more malleable the girl was going to be, and this time there would be no mistake. He knew he would need to call off the ban soon as well, especially so he could get some peace away from the arguments he was fielding from Minerva and Filius, although Severus was enjoying this a great deal. Not for the first time, Albus wished the potions master would grow up and stop thinking the girl was her father, but if it helped then he wouldn't say a word.

XXX

Charlotte wasn't expecting to bump into Cedric Diggory. It was as much of a surprise to her as it was for him, although in Cedric's case it was a good surprise since he had been trying desperately to get his house to stop what they were doing. Charlotte was merely coming out of the library after bunking off several of the classes she had, although she was still in DADA and Charms after she had practically withdrawn from all the others.

Herbology had become the battleground between her and the Hufflepuffs and their bitch of a Head of House, and they were aided by her former house who had access to plant weapons. Potions had become unbearable since Snape had gone out of his way to torment her, and even her tolerance had made worn thin. History was useless, and Astronomy was the perfect opportunity for someone to kill her since it was late at night, and Transfiguration because she was simply tired of her incompetent head of house who refused to act simply because she was a weakling.

She had continued to use her Time-Turner to secretly attend Runes and Arithmancy, and she had been taking copious notes so she could find out the best ways of dealing with the Tournament. She had no way of knowing what the First Task was going to be, but the more she thought about it, the more determined she was to be ready for it.

Her mind was on other things when she bumped into Cedric, and when she looked into his eyes she backed away.

"No, its okay," the older Hufflepuff said, thinking he had scared her. "I'm not going to hurt you. I promise. I won't."

"I'm not scared," Charlotte retorted, trying to find the right time to flee. But she could see he seemed so sincere. "What do you want?" she asked him, hoping this was quick before she was found here talking to him; the Hufflepuffs had gone out of their way to keep them apart, and they had boldly threatened her with serious harm if she tried to even say "hello" to Cedric. If one of them found her here with him, she didn't know what they'd do.

"I just want to talk," Cedric replied, wishing his House had just left him alone so he could speak to her, but they hadn't; they had followed him everywhere, surrounding him like bodyguards, telling him how great he was, and how Charlotte Potter should die, things like that. It had made him sick, and it had also made him wonder if this was the true spirit of Hufflepuff, the house of the loyal. "I wanted to see you, and believe it or not, I believe you when you said you didn't enter. I saw the fear and worry during that night, even though she were angry with Dumbledore and Fleur."

"Those are nice words, but they're still words," Charlotte pointed out, "how do I know you're telling me the truth?"

Cedric took out his wand, noting her sudden tenseness at the sight of it. "I, Cedric Diggory, do hereby swear on my life, I believe Charlotte Lillian Potter when she says she did not enter the Tri-wizard tournament. So mote it be."

Cedric glowed with magic as the oath took hold. He was still alive.

Charlotte looked at him with shock. "You….really believe me?" she whispered.

Cedric nodded. "I do. I've also been trying to stop my House from causing you harm, but it hasn't worked. They're crazy, they are obsessed with me being the champion, and they are not happy you are one. Hufflepuff has been pushed to the side for so long by the other houses, and now that we've got the chance in the tournament, they are angry."

"I can understand that," Charlotte replied, "but that doesn't justify what they're doing. There's a difference between being angry and being threatening, after all. No offence, but that doesn't set a good precedent."

"None taken, and you're right. But I can help," he said.

"How?" she asked wearily.

"I have a Truth Spell."

"They exist?"

"Yeah, didn't you know?" he asked in surprise.

"Er no, I didn't."

"Hold on, I thought, well everyone does, you were raised in the magical world. How could you not know about something like that?" Cedric asked in confusion and more than a little concern someone as famous as Charlotte Potter, the last heiress of an old family, had so little knowledge about the magical world.

"No, I was raised in the muggle world," Charlotte clarified, trying not to think about her early years in that world. "I didn't find out about my magic until I was eleven."

She was telling the truth. She hadn't known about magic even though she'd often been suspicious about some of the things that had happened around her, which had only made the Dursleys lash out at her before she killed them.

"What?" Cedric whispered in horror. "Now it makes sense."

"What does?"

"Susan and Ernie often complained about you whenever they tried to speak to you during your first two years. The Boneses and the McMillians are members of an old family alliance with your own family; when you didn't respond to them, and your friends, Weasley and Granger, pushed them away, they thought you were breaking the alliance," Cedric explained, looking at her desperately; if he could show the Truth Spell results to the rest of the House, he could speak to Ernie and Susan and the others…

But he saw Charlotte look down at her toes.

"You knew?" he asked in surprise.

Charlotte nodded. "Yeah. I've known about the Alliance since last year. I had plenty of time in Diagon Alley, and I found out about the Alliance then. But when I saw the names, I thought it wasn't worth it. Take Neville Longbottom; he was closer to me than Susan and Ernie, and yet he _never tried to speak to me, _not even when those two were out. When I heard about the alliance, I was furious; these people could have tried to find me in the muggle world, but they didn't even try. See it from my perspective; I am alone, in the muggle world. I have no family who would guide me, I had to grow up by myself, alone and in a muggle orphanage. No-one from the alliance tried to help."

Cedric looked down at the smaller girl with horror. His family had never been a part of the Alliance, but they had always been on good terms with the different members. To hear this….It would certainly send shockwaves in the wrong places, and since she had told him to see things from her perspective, Cedric could honestly understand her mindset even if he was worried that she had no idea what this would do politically, but he saw she didn't care.

"I have spent the last year wondering what to do with the Alliance, but with everything that's happened since, I haven't really had time to speak to any of the members," Charlotte went on, speaking with her "couldn't care less" voice about the potential consequences. "Anyway, what's this spell?"

"Oh, that's easy," Cedric said, thankful they were moving on away from the worrying topic they'd been discussing. "You just have to say you didn't enter the tournament, and I will cast the spell. If you glow white, it means you are speaking the truth."

"What happens if it detects a lie?"

"It will turn red."

She nodded. "Okay," she said in agreement; she had little faith in this since the whole mess had pointed out just how many enemies she actually had in Hogwarts. "Let's do it now, hmm?" she waited until Cedric had his wand pointed at her, the tip already glowing with a yellow light. "I didn't enter the Tri-wizard tournament. I never wanted anything to do with it. I just wanted to be left alone, and I truly don't care about Hogwarts glory. I also hate being the Girl-Who-Lived; all it has done is tear my life to bits, even if it has shaped my life."

Cedric cast the spell, doing his best to hide the worrying last sentence of her statement. It made him start to see there was a lot more to Charlotte Potter. As he had expected, the girl's body glowed white.

Once he cancelled the spell, he smiled. "Charlotte, I am so sorry for everything that's happened to you. I know I can't speak for them, but they have gone too far, and I'm also sorry I didn't say or do anything during your second year. I know it's cheeky and you might refuse, but do you think you could forgive me."

Charlotte gaped at him in surprise, seeing at once he wasn't pretending, and for the first time ever she let the dam fall, and all the pain and loneliness she had endured for years, spilt out. She started crying at one of the sweetest things she had ever heard.

Cedric looked at her in horror. He had just apologised to her…. then he realised the truth which had been nagging away at his senses for the last few minutes. He felt sick, sickened with not just himself. He was sickened by the whole magical world; Hogwarts and its students, the Ministry, everyone in the magical public, the so-called alliance of which the Potters were long and honoured members of, he was sickened by all of it.

This girl was a victim, not a monster. She wasn't a superhero, and it made him physically ill that everyone had hoisted her onto a pedestal, constantly deriding her for not doing anything they considered to be Light and righteous, and hating her whenever she appeared to be doing something dark.

She was just a girl, a kid who had grown up alone without anyone in her life. She had been betrayed by her godfather, and even her Hogwarts experience was hellish with the teachers either turning a blind eye or even _taking part _in the bullying themselves.

Everyone expected her to be a hero, someone to look up to, and someone to turn against, and that was a mistake because she was not a superhero.

Charlotte might have been a criminal, but she wasn't heartless. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek after standing on her toes. "That's the sweetest thing I've heard for a long time," she said truthfully, although she knew Dobby and Winky were both sweet, but ever since Sirius and Remus had both betrayed her, she hadn't really spoken to a member of her own species in this manner.

Cedric blushed. He might have a girlfriend already in Cho, but Charlotte wasn't like her. She wasn't clingy, constantly hanging off of his arms, simpering away, and crying whenever he didn't pay her any attention. Charlotte Potter was different, but he didn't know just how different she was. "I just wish I could help, some champion I am," he said, hoping to poke fun at himself would make her feel better, although it was a poor attempt.

She kissed him on the cheek again. "At least you have said and done something nice to me; Krum looks at me unblinkingly, its creepy but I can see he feels sorry for me, although the bastard won't do anything to stop it from happening in the first place. Delacour is the opposite; every time she sees me, she mocks me, asks if I've gotten enough attention."

Cedric pulled the girl into his arms and hugged her. He placed a Notice-Me-Not charm around them both so they would have some privacy, but he wouldn't know until later _someone _had seen them together, although they had been too far away to actually hear what was being said, having caught the last few minutes, and seen Charlotte kiss Cedric on the cheek, something which angered the onlooker.


	4. Chapter 4 Snap!

The Hell of Fourth Year.

Charlotte gave a soft smile as she stroked Nightstar while she tried to multitask as she ate her breakfast. She chuckled at some of the antics of her cat, and it seemed to take forever before she was finished with her breakfast, but seriously what was the point in hurrying when she was going to be spending most of her time in Hogwarts.

It had been four days since she and Cedric had spoken together. Four days of keeping her head down; while it was nice for Cedric to be so kind and supportive, she didn't see any reason why she couldn't still keep her head down. She was aware of the teachers passing detentions onto her simply because she had been skipping classes, but in actual fact, she was attending the more advanced classes thanks to the Time-Turner without their knowledge. But she had needed to take precautions to make sure no-one knew anything about one of the only tools she had. She didn't want to think of what Dumbledore or, heaven forbid, the Ministry learning about the copy she'd cloned off of the one loaned to Granger last year.

In many ways, the advanced classes were perfect for her, although she skipped Herbology since she didn't really give two hoots about the subject in the first place, and in truth it didn't mean anything if she failed it on her OWL anyway, not if she studied other subjects to make up the difference.

The advanced classes were something else. Underneath her cloak and a number of copying charms, she was able to learn everything she could about the subjects, but while some would question her about it, she was doing the coursework so then when she left Hogwarts and waved Magical Britain the unlamented farewell it deserved, she would be prepared for everything.

She was looking forward to the reactions of the press and the public when she left with not just great OWL results, but NEWT results as well. What better slap in the face was there than to have a girl whom everyone considered mediocre suddenly achieving near-perfect results?

And the best thing, at least in her mind, was they could drop as many detentions on her as they wished, but in the end, she would get the lash laugh. She was looking forward to that day with great anticipation.

Charlotte laughed as Nightstar placed er paw in her breakfast and licked off the mixture of Weetabix pureed with milk and fresh fruit. "Hey, sweetie," she giggled. "Do you like my breakfast?"

She stroked the cat, who happily purred under her touch. She smiled at her cat happy, pleased she had Nightstar, and her two House-elves to support her in this mess. She still did not understand what on Earth had possessed Weasley when he had tried to kill her cat; there was shunning and there was causing pain. She wondered what would have happened if she had gotten back to the common room too late, just in time to see Nightstar's body on the ground…

She shook her head. She would never have forgiven Weasley, in fact, she would very likely have killed him. Him, and his fucked up, bastard family. One of the benefits of having the Marauders map was being able to stay on step ahead of the Weasleys, who continued to look around the school during the breaks for her. She had no doubt the twins were looking for her to prank her again, but thanks to the map she was more or less safe.

Once she was finished and her breakfast things were taken away from her, Charlotte kissed her cat and Dobby goodbye, as it was Winky's turn to take her to Hogwarts. After saying goodbye to her elf, she took a deep breath and walked up to the castle. Once she was inside the castle thanks to climbing in through the window of one of the disused classrooms, Charlotte waved her wand to get rid of the dirt, thankful she still had her custom wand on her; the wand she'd bought from Ollivander was practically gone, anyway.

She opened the classroom door a touch, and she peeked outside. She relaxed when she realised there wasn't anyone there, so she felt it was safe to leave. She checked her watch and smiled. The school was having breakfast, so she had time to herself for a bit, although she wondered what she was going to be doing.

Charlotte checked the timetable in her hand, and she saw she would be having Transfiguration in a minute with the seventh years. She smiled, that was easy enough. Charlotte walked through the corridors towards the Transfiguration classroom, only to suddenly feel someone's hand on her arm and she was swung around and pushed against the wall.

Taken by surprise by the sudden violence, Charlotte was stunned and she needed a moment before she could focus before she mentally sighed at the sight of Susan Bones, who was holding up her wand to her face.

Charlotte knew the girl was one of the kids of the alliance her family had been a part of, only she knew Susan had never really bothered to speak to her personally about the alliance. But even then she wouldn't be a part of it, not after the way Susan had made her life hell along with so many others in her second year.

"What's this?" she asked.

"I saw you with Cedric. Stay away from him, with your filthy cheating ways, Potter!" Bones snarled in her face. "I saw you, you were trying to seduce him. Well, I won't have it. Think you're so smart, Potter. You need to be taught your place!" With that, she yelled an incantation, and there was a bright flash of light. The spell impacted Charlotte's face before the dark-haired girl could even react, and it was so close she didn't have a chance to block it.

The spell shattered her glasses, and much to Susan's horror, Charlotte screamed in pain.

The scream echoed through the school, curdling the blood of everyone who heard it, silencing everyone in the Great Hall. Teacher and student alike stopped all conversations, and they rushed out of the hall, trying to find the source of the scream.

Susan was terrified, and she had collapsed to the ground in horror as she watched her class and year mate screaming while she clutched her face, bits of her destroyed glasses dropping to the ground while blood pooled in her hand, seeping through the gaps between her fingers.

Charlotte stared at the terrified Hufflepuff, who immediately began backing away on her backside, looking up at her with horror as the full depths of what she had done penetrated her brain. The look Charlotte sent Susan was positively demonic as she clutched the remains of her eye, blood dropping everywhere as she glared with hatred down at the girl. Charlotte was somehow able to push away the pain she was feeling, glaring down at the Hufflepuff with rage.

"W-why? What possessed you to do _this_? Say goodbye, to your precious alliance, Bones. 'cause if I ever see you again, I will kill you!"

Gasping with pain as it returned full force, Charlotte stumbled away from the scene, using her hands to feel her way down the corridors, leaving behind the terrified Susan Bones, and droplets of blood near her shattered glasses. She was numb, she felt as if her head were about to explode, and she needed to get away from the place before something happened.

_That is it! No more Miss nice girl. The next bastard in this poxy school is going to get maimed if they touch me! I've snapped!_

She gasped as waves of dizziness swept over her, and she felt a moment of disorientation but she lost her footing and collapsed to the ground.

XXX

The teachers weren't sure what they would find when they reached the source of the screaming, but when they reached the scene they stopped in horror at what they saw. They had expected to find one of the students in the corridor, but when they saw Susan Bones sitting on the ground, breathing in and out, eyes wide in shock while there were droplets of blood on the stone floor, and handprints of blood on the walls, leading down the corridors.

Student and teacher alike looked around, and they caught sight of the remains of Charlotte Potter's glasses near the blood splatters.

"Let me through, please everyone!" Dumbledore forced his way through, and he paused in surprise when he saw the blood and the shattered remains of Charlotte's glasses. He waved his wand, and he silenced the scene before he walked over to the still form of Susan Bones. Ignoring the pain in his knees as he knelt down from his aged bones, Dumbledore looked into Susan's mind.

With his legilimency skills, he didn't have any problem seeing what had happened, and when he did he closed his eyes in horror.

_Flitwick was right. All this has gone too far. This is not going to be doing my plans any good, especially since this might be the catalyst which makes her turn dark. But after what's happened, I can't say I blame her. The plan was going on so well, too; but now it's ruined. I only hope we can salvage this mess, and she can find it within herself to forgive everyone. _

Dumbledore waved his wand and the crowd's noise returned. "SILENCE!" he yelled, instantly the crowd went quiet. "Teachers, gather in my office. Students, make your way back to your common rooms, at once! Any student not in their common room will be immediately placed in a four-day long detention! Now Go! I shall deal with Miss Bones."

As everyone started to leave the corridor, Dumbledore looked down at the still shocked form of the Hufflepuff girl and sighed. This was not something he had wanted, and he could see he had once more made a fatal misjudgement, and it could cost the magical world a great deal, especially since there was a chance Charlotte would crack. She had more than enough reason.

He levitated her to the hospital wing and gave instructions to Poppy on creating a replacement eye for Charlotte once he had informed her of what had happened, not even trying to sugarcoat anything.

However, the nurse had something scathing to say to him. "Are you never going to stop meddling in students' lives, Albus?" she asked before she turned to take care of Miss Bones.

XXX

As he headed for his office, the confrontation with Poppy and the actions of Miss Bones on his mind, Albus Dumbledore didn't know if his current plans concerning Charlotte Potter were viable. Where he would normally use the floo-network to travel from one half of the school to the next, Albus had decided to walk to give himself some time to think about what he was going to do next. Dumbledore had long since felt the best way to think was if you walked slowly from point a to point b, which would give the perfect amount of time to come up with a plan.

He had known the girl was suffering as a result of the tournament, and he hadn't made things easier by setting out with a plan to isolate her, which would make it easier for the girl to become malleable enough to be moulded according to his designs.

It hadn't been difficult getting the former Marauders to help, either; Sirius Black had always been a two-dimensional man, always more concerned with his own pleasure, than facing any responsibilities he might have had. And while he cared about Charlotte, Sirius hadn't really done anything to help her in all the years since the death of James and Lily.

Even Dumbledore could not understand it; he had known the Marauders barring Remus were animagi for years, thanks to looking inside Pettigrew's mind more than once whenever he'd had dealings with the gang in the later years they'd been at Hogwarts, and it was how he had known from the moment he met Peter again after the other wizard had returned from his initiation ceremony, if you could call the atrocities the Death Eaters called the event where they received their Dark Mark, the man was a Death Eater.

Having an animagus form would have meant Sirius would have had a relatively simple time getting out of Azkaban without the Dementors being aware of it, given their poor senses which didn't extend to an awareness of animals. Sirius had had two options, he could either have sneaked out as the Dementors were bringing him food, which he had done. Or he could simply have waited until his body had lost enough weight for him to slip through the bars, and then for both, he'd have needed to swim for shore. Once he was on the mainland, he wouldn't have had any trouble finding his own way again.

But no-one ever said Sirius was intelligent. He was smart, yes, but he wasn't forward-thinking. Yes, he had kept himself going by thinking of Charlotte, using it to give him strength, but what really gave him the strength to go on was the idea of catching Pettigrew. It completely seemed to have slipped his mind he had the means of getting out and going after Peter any time he chose, or he could simply have left the prison and gone on the run. As a dog, he would have had a relatively easy time hiding. Especially if he hid in the muggle world, where the magical government of the Wizengamot had little to no influence, and even the Minister couldn't outright tell the muggle Prime Minister to keep on the lookout for a dog of a particular breed and appearance. The muggles would laugh at them.

What made it interesting was Charlotte herself had picked up on the fact the animagus form Sirius had could have allowed him to leave at any point, he had seen it in her body language when the girl and Hermione Granger had told him the story the year before. Getting the Marauders to not contact Charlotte hadn't been difficult, but now it looked like he had made a fatal mistake in not doing anything at all.

As he approached the guardian statue to his office which instantly began to rise to the tower his office and his chambers were kept, Albus wondered if his newly altered plan to try to find the girl, to heal her, and to train her would work since Charlotte was becoming very hard to find, and even the portraits had little idea of where she went.

He walked into his office and found his whole staff there. He mentally sighed, knowing this meeting would not be good.

He crossed the room and went to where the Pensieve was kept and he took it out before he went to sit down on a chair near the window, deciding this was not the time for formalities, especially since he wasn't in the mood.

"What are you going to do with the Pensieve, Headmaster?" Severus asked.

Dumbledore paused for a moment, wondering how he should answer that question, but he carried on with his work since Severus and the others would soon realise what he was doing. He placed the Pensieve on the little table covered with some of the objects he had collected over the years of his long life, and he silently lifted his wand to his temple and he concentrated on the memory before he placed the glowing thread into the bowl.

For the next three minutes, the staff of Hogwarts were shown a first-person account of what happened. They saw how Susan had stumbled on Charlotte and Cedric speaking together, they saw him being kissed by her.

For the next few days, Susan had been trying to find Charlotte, jealous because she had believed _the Potter bitch was taking Cedric away from her, _which showed Susan had a crush on the elder Hufflepuff. She never told anyone what she had seen, otherwise, Cedric would have overheard, but in Susan's mind, she was trying to break whatever hold Charlotte had over Cedric.

They watched as Susan eventually tracked Charlotte down after a few days. They saw how Susan threatened the other girl before she lost her temper and fired that spell right into Charlotte's eye. The whole room was horrified as they watched as the spell destroyed Charlotte's eye and glasses, and made her scream. The screams echoed through the room, rousing and terrifying the portraits of the previous Headmasters and Headmistresses, and it made the Sorting Hat and Fawkes cringe.

It was too much for Minerva, who had to endure the shattered heart as she had to listen to the daughter of her two favourite students screaming because another student had destroyed her eye. "STOP IT!" she yelled.

Dumbledore tapped the side of the Pensieve and the memory was thankfully stopped. He rubbed his face, only just managing to resist the temptation to touch his own eyes to rub out the exhaustion he was feeling.

Professor Sinistra broke the silence hesitantly. "What's going to happen to Miss Bones after what she's done?" she asked curiously, though she sounded like she didn't care.

Dumbledore sighed. "Susan will be expelled from Hogwarts as soon as she is well enough to accept the consequences of what she has done," he replied.

He had been tempted to simply suspend the Hufflepuff, but he had decided against it. He hoped that by expelling the other girl, Charlotte would come to forgive him and his lack of action.

"Good!" Minerva spat angrily.

Pomona looked down, ashamed of what one of her students had just done. Severus snorted, making Flitwick glare at him. "What is it, now, Severus? For Merlin's sake, man, if indeed you are a man at all, since you've got the body of a man and the brain of a fifteen-year-old boy holding onto a grudge. She's just lost an eye. An eye she inherited from Lily. You remember her, right? The girl whom you referred to as a m-u-d-b-l-o-o-d because she offered to help, and you didn't like it!"

Snape snarled, but Flitwick had his wand jammed right between Snape's eyes. "Try it!" Flitwick snapped. "You might be proficient with duelling, but I took down several of your Death Eater friends. I won't have any problems with you."

"That's enough!" Dumbledore snapped, too tired and worn down to really raise the effort to shout. "He's right, Severus."

"But Headmaster-!" Snape protested, which further cemented the view most of the teachers had of him, of a grown man who behaved in a childish manner.

But Dumbledore was no longer tolerant of Snape's attitude.

The plan he had for Charlotte had changed - granted, he still needed to figure out the finer points of it, but it had changed. For it to work, everyone in the school had to be repentant. Everyone. He was not going to make an exception for Severus, and truthfully although it would shift opinions with the other Death Eaters, Dumbledore could find ways around that.

"No, this grudge has gone on long enough. It's time for you to grow up, and act like a man for a change! Wait after this meeting, and I will make it _very clear _of what your place is!" Dumbledore growled out, sending chills down the backs of the teachers. All except two.

"This should not have happened in the first place, Albus!" Minerva said strongly, tears cascading down her cheeks as the memory of how the spell had slashed Charlotte's eye returned to her mind and kept replaying, each scream from the girl a knife to her heart.

"I know, Minerva," Dumbledore replied.

"Do you?" Flitwick's voice was low, but the challenge was clear. "How many, Albus? How many times is this going to happen before you get the hint? This was unnecessary. That girl is a victim, an orphan who has suffered so much. The only reason you manipulated her is because you're interested in dealing with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but you're going about it all wrong."

"That's not all," Minerva added, glaring at Pomona and Severus, who were the worst culprits in this mess, although they all had culpability. "You have spent years telling us to not punish the students when they cross the line. It's time for that to change, otherwise, our students will think they can get away with murder. This incident is only the start. First, it was eyes, next it could be killing curses!"

Dumbledore stiffened at the words of his deputy and the charms master. This was approaching territory he did not like on principle, but he relaxed quickly. He did not like the idea of punishing students. In his mind, the students needed to be shown they should be forgiving, but it was becoming very clear to him he had made a mistake in using these methods to pass that lesson along.

Dumbledore mentally sighed. He would need to think on this mess and come up with an adequate plan to ensure it worked out in the long run. "Arguing is not going to help. The past is past, and we cannot change it," he said as humbly as he could. "The best we can do now is find Charlotte, get her to Poppy, where she can have her eye replaced, and then we will work with her to get her through the tournament."

He had not expected this twist, although he had planned on having the girl trained if she had needed it for the tournament.

"In the meantime…I want all of you to return to your Houses. Tell them what has transpired, and also make it clear she is not to be bullied anymore. It might be too late, but we can try to mitigate the worst of the outcome now."

XXX

Cedric was torn between demolishing Hufflepuff house completely, or going after Susan herself for taking things this far. The girl had been forced to heal rapidly, and then she was taken to the Great Hall where her wand was snapped. Personally, Cedric thought the girl deserved everything she got, although no-one in their right minds would want to be anywhere near Amelia Bones when she heard the news.

He still _couldn't believe _Susan had taken it upon herself to act like a crazed vigilante, and go after Charlotte, but Cedric felt guilty because the only reason the younger girl had done it was because she had seen him and Charlotte together. It was his own fault for this mess! He needed to find Charlotte, apologise to her again, although he was going to leave out Hufflepuff completely. He didn't care about his House right now, not after the way Professor Sprout had come to the common room, and told them all what had happened, sounding guilty herself.

What Cedric really hated the most, was that the image he had of Hogwarts was changed irrevocably. For the first time, he could see for himself the flaws in the system. The teachers _never _truly punished anyone. They never forced the students to accept the responsibility of their actions, and they taught the wrong lessons over and over again.

Susan's expulsion had been a shock, but truthfully, if Dumbledore had any common sense, an expulsion a year would have driven home to the others of the dangers of crossing the line.

But what really upset Cedric was that the wool had been pulled over his eyes when he thought of the Houses. They were so stereotyped it wasn't funny, and they enjoyed their rivalries to the point where the students in each house were at _war _with each other.

All of them, including Hufflepuff, was nothing like the vision of their founders.

Cedric grimaced as he thought about the way Dumbledore had spoken about the incident. The Headmaster _had been there _the night Charlotte's name was drawn out of the goblet, yet he had done nothing.

It was….the sheer hypocrisy which had pissed him off. It was clear Dumbledore either didn't care about Charlotte, or the talk of him living in a different world was true. He didn't care which.

Cedric had become so frustrated he had projected the memory of his conversation with Charlotte, in front of everyone in the Great Hall. He had become so sick of what had happened, sick of how everyone was keeping him away from her while shamelessly tormenting her, and even going as far as to injure her and kill her cat simply because they thought they had the _**right**_, and he realised that ever since he and Charlotte had spoken together, it had been the rumbling cause which had culminated in an avalanche.

"_Charlotte isn't a hero; she's a victim. We've placed her on a pedestal, expecting her to be a light witch who will do anything for us for nothing, and take everything we give her because she's _a hero!"

That was what he had said to the hall, and he had quickly left. He was sickened by the school, and he didn't care what they thought about him in turn.

He went to the Hospital wing, hoping to find Charlotte there to have Poppy check on her eye, but when he arrived he was disappointed. The white-washed walls were clean, and Poppy was just sitting on one of the beds, looking thoughtfully at the wall. The moment she noticed him, she stood up.

"Hello, Mr Diggory," she greeted. "Is everything alright?"

Cedric smiled at the elder woman. "Yeah, I'm okay. I was just wondering if Charlotte were here, I feel I should apologise for getting her into this mess."

At the mention of Charlotte's name, Poppy deflated.

"Oh, I'm sorry-," Cedric apologised quickly when he saw the emotions on her face, but she waved him off. "It's alright, Cedric, really," she tried to say, but the tears appearing in her eyes made it clear it wasn't. She let out a sobbing breath. "No, she hasn't been in here, and truthfully, I doubt she'd come back. And I don't blame her. What was Albus thinking?" she added.

"The Headmaster?" Cedric frowned, wondering what the old wizard had to do with this although he wondered if the man was either whacked in the head, or he was just an uncaring bastard who didn't deserve to be here. "What does he have to do with this?"

Poppy wouldn't normally say anything, but she had lost virtually all respect for the old man. She flicked her wand and sat Cedric down. The Head boy had no idea that in a few minutes, all the respect he himself had for the elderly wizard would evaporate.

XXX

Amelia glared at her niece. Susan was sitting by herself on the opposite couch, looking forlorn, upset, and terrified. What made it worse was they weren't alone, spiritually at least; all of the portraits of the Bones family were looking on grimly, all of them alert. And all of them were furious.

Susan was terrified enough of her aunt, but the inclusion of her family's honoured ancestors was enough to make her physically sick.

_Good, she should be, _the older witch thought to herself, disgusted by what her niece had done.

It was not often Amelia found herself disappointed by anything her niece did, but she had not expected to receive a message from Hogwarts, telling her what Susan had done to Charlotte Potter. The moment she had received the news….Amelia had little idea what she was going to do. She had instantly gone to Hogwarts, and she had witnessed the nightmare every magical parent dreaded, witnessing the expulsion of a child of their family from Hogwarts. It would be a terrific blow to the prestige of the Bones family, and it would tarnish their reputation, but it would also mean the chances Susan would have for life, the options and opportunities would become nonexistent.

Amelia had no idea what she was going to do. She wouldn't abandon the girl, whom she had raised after her parents had been murdered by the Death Eaters, but she had no idea how she was going to cope.

"Do you want to explain to me why you did what you did, Susan?" she asked tightly as she valiantly tried to stop herself from exploding with anger.

It was a tone Susan had heard more than once, and it made her shiver. "When I saw….C-Charlotte and Cedric….I-I went mad, I was jealous. Cedric…he's always been so handsome, so kind…and he deserved to be the Tri-wizard champion for Hogwarts," Susan said, stammering with a croaky voice, although Amelia caught the slightly breathless way she uttered Cedric's name, indicating she had a crush on the boy, but she pushed that aside and studied Susan; ever since what happened, she hadn't really spoken clearly, and it had made her voice suffer as a result. "But when I saw them…I thought she was bewitching him."

"So you took the law into your own hands," Amelia whispered, her voice becoming tighter with each word, "and you threatened her, and you had your _former _wand jammed in her face?"

Susan winced, knowing her auntie well enough to know she had deliberately mentioned her old wand, which was now in pieces and in her room to remind her of what she had lost, out of spite. "Yes," she said in a small voice, tears falling down her cheeks.

"What _**possessed **_you to use that spell in the first place? And why did you have your wand aimed at Charlotte's face, anyway?" Amelia was close to her bursting point.

"I wanted to cause her pain. I wanted her to stay away from Cedric!" Susan was really crying now, but Amelia felt little sympathy for her niece. She was too angry to care.

"Oh, you did that, alright. You _**had your wand jammed in her eye!" **_Amelia began quietly, but she finished up by screaming at her niece.

Susan recoiled.

"What did you think was going to happen, you stupid **stupid **child? Did you not think about what you were doing?" Amelia went on, screeching in front of Susan, while their ancestors watched in shame and disgust at their recent heiress.

"I didn't know it was going to do that!" Susan sobbed.

"Well, it did. And congratulations, Susan, but this has had terrible effects on our family as well. You have broken the alliance between the Bones and the Potters."

The portraits stiffened, and some even muttered to themselves before Amelia glanced at them, knowing her own handling of the situation was going to make them judgemental of her, and that was not what she needed nor wanted. It was bad enough she was going to be scrutinised by the Ministry, especially since Fudge and Umbridge would love the chance to get her kicked out of her position as head of the DMLE.

All thanks to this stupid child!

Susan somehow managed to find the willpower to speak about that part. "But Potter has never shown an interest in the alliance, Auntie!" she protested, faltering when Amelia turned a dangerous expression onto her. "Well, she hasn't. She's always had Weasley and Granger keeping her away from us!"

Amelia knew the 'us' referred to Neville, Daphne, and Ernie. "Really, do go on? Please tell me how a _Weasley _is higher on the hierarchy than a Bones or even a Longbottom!"

Susan trembled when Amelia screamed the last few words of her question.

Amelia sneered with contempt. "You didn't even try to meet the girl on your own, did you? You just listened to what a Weasley and a muggle-born said, and you didn't take the initiative to speak to the girl personally, did you?" Amelia shook her head in disgust before she looked up again. "What else did you do during this….this _disaster _following the drawing of the champions, Susan? I want to know, did you hurt her? WELL?!"

Susan jumped. "I erm, I attacked Potter in the corridors. I tripped her up," she squeaked.

"Oh this is getting better and better by the minute," Amelia crowed viciously. "I don't suppose it ever _occurred _to you what you were doing?"

"It was only school stuff, Auntie," Susan protested, "surely Potter would forgive us after?"

The moment she said that Susan wished she could swallow it back. Unfortunately, no magic could do that.

"Are you serious?" Amelia whispered in disbelief. Surely Susan was not that stupid?

"It was just school stuff, surely she wouldn't have taken it personally? I mean, she did forgive us before-"

Amelia clenched her fists, making a mental note to interrogate Susan about what she meant by that later. "You know what, maybe your expulsion was a good thing because I can't imagine anyone so stupid being in the magical world!"

Susan trembled again.

Amelia stood up and sighed. "I don't know what to say," she said quietly, but Susan didn't move, knowing if she said anything wrong, her aunt would come down on her like a bludgeoning curse. "I don't think I've ever encountered stupidity like that ever, and I work for Cornelius Fudge!"

Susan looked down. The name of the current Minister was not a popular one in the manor. Thanks to his incompetence, many departments had suffered from budget cuts, all for insane reasons that made little sense.

Amelia went on. "The last of the Potter family…not only is she that, but she is also the Girl Who Lived. I don't even know how I am going to get the family through this disaster, all because of you and your inability to think."

"I…I think she knew about the alliance, but she didn't seem interested," Susan whispered fearfully, frightened of her aunties' reaction.

Amelia's eyes snapped over to her. "Well, it was nice of you to tell me that, Susan! It's also nice of you to destroy not just your future, but our family honour as well!"

She sighed and closed her eyes as she tried to work out what she was going to do. This latest tidbit added a new dimension to the problem. For a long time, the alliance had been trying to hold on, but without Charlotte Potter, who seemed to have no desire to formalise the latest generation of the alliance, it was hopeless.

But now it seemed like the girl had known, but why she hadn't done anything about it, Amelia had no idea.

All she knew was she would have to use every ounce of experience to get them through this.

And she wasn't sure if she could.


	5. Chapter 5 Unexpected Help

Disclaimer - I own nothing. I just own this story.

Please let me know what you think.

* * *

The Hell of Fourth Year.

_How long have I been asleep? I don't remember going to sleep. _

When she felt herself beginning to wake up, she fell into an old pattern where she would wake up slowly and let her other senses tell her what was going on around her.

"I think she's waking up," a woman said.

She mentally frowned to herself. She didn't recognise the voice, and it sounded like an adult's voice; she could definitely hear the warmth and the pity in the woman's voice.

She instinctively reared back. She had never liked pity, it had never helped her in her entire life.

She was certain she had been speaking to someone, but there came a sudden and terrible pain in her eye. What had happened to her eye? Did it have anything to do with her falling to sleep? Fuck, her head _hurt…_

And then she became aware of something, a strange and unexpected presence in her mind, something she instinctively shied away from with her occlumency barriers, her instinctive desire for privacy and her desire to be left alone made her lash out against the attacker. _How _dare _you come into my mind?! _she screamed furiously at her attacker.

In the real world, she heard a voice gasping. "Magic, she is incredibly strong…"

_You'd better believe it, pal. _

"Well, you did start probing her mind, Sal," another woman pointed out, this one was different from the other. Where the other woman had a motherly quality in her voice, this one had a more formal, cultured voice.

"I know, I was asking for it, but I wasn't expecting that. I think you're right, Helga, she is coming around," the man known as Sal said, sounding more impressed than annoyed.

She decided enough was enough, and she opened her eyes. Or at least she tried to. To her surprise she found only one eye opening, so what had happened to the second?

"Hello, Charlotte Potter," a man's rough but cultured voice greeted, and she looked around and found herself at a tall man dressed in clothes reminiscent of a strange style of wizarding robes which made it look like he was wearing a much more stronger, lighter form while he wore armour which looked both ceremonial and yet capable of holding up against a major fight. The man moved so she couldn't take much of his clothes into account, and she saw the man's face for the first time. He was ruggedly handsome with a short crisp red-brown beard with flecks of silvery grey, dark intense-looking eyes. But the look he was sending her confused her, there was a look of pride and yet sorrow in his eyes.

_Charlotte, oh yeah that's my name, _she realised.

"Do I know you?" Charlotte asked.

The man gave her a warm, bittersweet smile. "I am Godric Gryffindor."

_What? _

"But that's impossible unless I've travelled back in time; I know Godric Gryffindor died a thousand years ago," Charlotte snapped.

"I am Godric Gryffindor," the man smiled, not at all put out by the annoyance in the teenager's reply, in fact, he looked downright pleased as if he hadn't had a worthwhile argument ever. He sent her a teasing smile, although it was still marred by the sorrow she could see and recognise. "I remember when you were sorted into my house, and the hat said you belonged in all of the houses, although your cunning and drive to succeed and to survive would have done well in Slytherin, but you wanted to go into Gryffindor to put people off."

Charlotte gaped at him in surprise. "How the fuck could you know that?!"

"Language!" one of the women said, making Charlotte glare at her. The glare made the woman recoil, although Charlotte had no way of realising the reason for the glare.

"I would have loved to have had you in my house."

Charlotte turned to the speaker. It was the other man, Sal, although she guessed Sal stood for Salazar. Salazar Slytherin, the founder of Slytherin house, reputed to be the biggest dark lord in his generation, although Charlotte had never really cared. "Oh, why's that?" she asked dryly.

Slytherin smirked. He was dressed in long dark green robes with black and silvery-white trim, with dark hair that went to the shoulders and green eyes that reminded Charlotte of her own eye colour. "You are quite possibly the most cunning individual to have come to Hogwarts, honed by your years as a thief," Charlotte stiffened at the word, but there was no sign of judgement in the faces of any of the Founders, "there are currently only three Slytherins in your year who belong in my house. Daphne Greengrass, Tracy Davis, and Blaise Zabini. All the others are descendants of people who were once more cunning than the morons nowadays. That boy, Draco Malfoy is a disgrace. He isn't cunning, he's just a pathetic little boy who is trying to play a game and think he is the one running it. But you…you are a true Slytherin. I mean you have spent the past year using that Time Turner you copied from that muggle-born who betrayed you long ago, and no-one has caught on."

Charlotte was by now convinced these people were the Founders. But she wondered if this was a weird dream…

"Oh, this is no dream," one of the women said and Charlotte turned her attention towards her. She was a tall, beautiful woman with raven black tresses and deep blue eyes, wearing long robes of dark blue. "Rowena Ravenclaw."

Charlotte quirked a brow, noticing the woman's almost dismissive tone. She shrugged mentally. She didn't really care if the individual founders liked her or not. It wasn't her problem.

She quickly realised these people could see or hear her thoughts, which didn't make sense because Salazar had tried to read her own mind, but she had forced him out, so she didn't understand how the Founders could pick up on her thoughts.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"We have been noticing what Dumbledore has been doing at the school for a long time. We have decided enough is enough," the second woman said, looking at Charlotte kindly, but Charlotte regarded her with distrust. So few people had ever been kind to her, and she had spent her entire life regarding those who were kind but ended up lying and misleading her with distrust. It was hard to shake off, even though all of her instincts, which had been pushed further after everything that had happened the last few years, had sharpened.

"Why now?" Charlotte challenged. "The old bastard has been meddling in peoples' lives for years, why come out of the woodwork now?"

"Because of what has just happened to you."

"What do you mean, what happen-?" Charlotte paused as memories came back with the force of a killing curse fired from a speeding High-Speed train. "Oh, my God!" she whispered in horror as the memory of the confrontation with Bones filled her head and the terrific and nightmarish scenario of a flash of pain which was far worse than anything the Dursleys had done by comparison, she remembered seeing her blood pooling in her hands, but she had been too horrified by what had happened to truly understand the implications.

She slowly reached up a shaking hand to her eye, and she felt a wad of some kind of gauze on her face.

"My….my eye! The bitch….she's destroyed my eye!" Charlotte began to shake.

The woman Founder whom Charlotte knew was Helga Hufflepuff stepped forward, but the sudden movement made the teenager shy back. She ignored the look of hurt on the woman's face. She didn't care if she hurt their feelings, she was angry and in agony. And besides, after the last few weeks of being treated like shit by every house, including her former house, she wasn't particularly interested in anything the Founders had to say although a part of her wanted to find out what they wanted.

But all she wanted was to rest and find someone qualified to help her.

"Go away," she spat.

"I can help you. I'm a Healer-."

"Oh, I've had enough of Hogwarts healing standards to last a lifetime, especially since the current healer barred me."

"That was because of Dumbledore; the Headmaster has the power to order it, although this is a flagrant misuse of the power," Helga said, looking down sadly for a moment, but when she looked up Charlotte was surprised to see the woman's expression was as furious as she felt. "I am so sorry that members of my House did this to you, only for this to happen."

"I bet you are," Charlotte spat. "Hufflepuff has been disdained for years and years. They have never had the type of elevated role Cedric Diggory's given them, after coming out of that damn goblet. Why should I trust you?"

Helga bit her lip, fighting her desire to lose her temper with the girl. She needed to remind herself she needed to careful with the girl. Salazar had claimed the girl was like a wounded animal, furious and hurt, ready to lash out. "Because they are not true Hufflepuffs. If Susan Bones had been allowed to inform you of the Alliance which you're aware of, then she would have defended you to the hilt, and she would never have done this."

Charlotte wondered for a moment if her stance on the Alliance had been the right one after all, but she knew it was too late now. She wondered if she had told the members she wasn't interested but did want to be friendly and that Dumbledore, Weasley, and Granger were the ones blocking and meddling in the Alliance it would have done some good.

But it was just…too late. There was nothing she could do about it anymore.

"It wasn't your fault, Charlotte," Gryffindor said softly, gently walking forward and putting a consolatory hand on Helgas' shoulder. "You didn't know if you could trust the alliance, especially after growing up on your own-!"

"STOP THAT, FUCKING STOP **THAT!" **Charlotte screeched, ignoring the pain in her head at the screech. "Stop saying these things, stop rooting through my brain!"

"We can't help it," Ravenclaw said, stepping forward this time, looking at her with that neutral manner Charlotte had never really seen in many of the Ravenclaws, however, there was something in her eyes Charlotte could not identify at this point. It reminded the girl of sympathy and worry. "Your mind is linked to Hogwarts, even with your mental barriers. We did this so then we could understand the events of the world from the perspective of the students."

Charlotte shook her head, fighting off the waves of dizziness.

"Listen, Charlotte; you've been through a great deal. You are tired, and you are hurt," Slytherin softly said; Charlotte wasn't sure why, but she found something comforting about this man, this Founder even if the members of his house were scum. "But you need serious medical attention. I know you don't have any reason to trust us," he carried on diplomatically, thankful he at least was the one speaking; Godric would mean well, but his friend and co-Founder would have said something unimaginably stupid and thoughtless. "But we can help you. Hogwarts has failed you so many times in the past. But please, let us help now."

"For what it's worth," Helga began, looking at Charlotte fiercely. "I find my House a disgrace."

"We all do," Ravenclaw said, looking solemnly at Charlotte.

Charlotte looked at the Founders torn. On the one hand, she didn't want to trust them, but at the same time, she felt she didn't have that many options. She didn't know if she could get through to Dobby or Winky, and she didn't really want to put herself at the mercy of the magical hospital she had heard of in the time she had been here.

"Alright," she said, "I'll trust you…."

Helga lifted her wand gently, but before Charlotte could do anything, she felt herself lulled to sleep.

XXX

Godric lifted his head as Salazar and Helga came in, both of them looking solemn and grim. "How is she?" she asked in concern.

"We got her in the Healing bath. She'll be immersed for a few hours, and we've managed to remove the remains of her eye. I can use them to create a clone to replace the one she lost," Helga reported quietly, looking down before she burst out angrily. "What was that stupid child thinking when she used that curse?"

"She wasn't," Rowena had her arms folded. "None of the students use their common sense nowadays. Dumbledore has started a nasty trend where only he should be the one to think, nobody else should."

None of the Founders said anything about that. Although they had always had concerns about some of Dumbledore's ideologies and philosophy, they had felt he was a powerful wizard and he had been good at what he had done, but all that had changed when he became Headmaster. Ordinarily, they would have denied him the role, but Dumbledore was the only one powerful enough for the job, and back then he hadn't been as thoughtless, but what had allowed him to stay as Headmaster was he was invested to protect the students.

Unfortunately, Dumbledore liked the idea of being in virtual charge of the Magical side of Britain, and he had started removing one subject after another, deeming them unnecessary. They knew he had done it primarily to ensure nobody knowledgeable came along and threatened his position. It had worked since Hogwarts educational standards had dropped significantly, but what was worse was how the students were never punished for anything serious. Dumbledore had this weird philosophy of forgiveness where he would turn a blind eye to what was going on, and the students would feel entitled to do more. It got worse when you thought of how this policy went out into the greater magical community. The Founders knew young witches and wizards felt they could do anything, and they would get away with it. What was worse was those around them simply did not have the mindset or the ability to do anything about it.

Dumbledore had ruined Britain. Not only was the education sub-standard, but he had ruined how young students should turn out. There had been many cases over the years when this policy had caused a lot of damage, but the incident between Charlotte and Susan Bones was a rare event. There was no doubt in the Founder's _minds _Dumbledore would not change his policies. He had enacted on them for years, and he saw no reason to stop since the long term benefits of turning a blind eye would make people look to him for help.

"This cannot go on," Godric shook his head, but his hand also shook with the repressed rage he was feeling at the thought of the young people who had passed through Hogwarts, only for them to be hurt by Dumbledore's policies. "This has been happening for years, but we have done nothing. We are supposed to defend the school, no matter if our real selves are dead."

"The only way we can stop this is if we come out into the open," Rowena said, "but to do that, we would need to completely alter the perception of everyone out there. That would take a long time before we make any headway."

"Our minds have been in Hogwarts for centuries, I think we can handle it, Rowena," Helga pointed out, making Rowena nod in agreement.

"I think one of the first things which should be changed should be how Hogwarts is run," Salazar began before he sat down and looked seriously at his fellow Founders. "Think about it; when we began the project to create and Found this school, we set up our houses in order to shape the magical elite. But what if we had made a mistake? Let me finish, please Godric," he added when he noticed Godric beginning to open his mouth. "Our Houses have become stereotyped."

"He's right," Helga nodded gravely. "Gryffindor is seen as brave and brash, but they have become nothing more than a House of bullies who think they are serving the Light by attacking Slytherin students, some of which just want to study and become healers or researchers, only to make the Slytherins become darker. My House….it's bad enough everyone thinks I took only the leftovers, when in fact I wanted the hard-working and loyal people, but now they've lost their way, and now they're loyal only to themselves."

"And my House is filled with bigots because Arthur sorted them there because they had nowhere else to go," Salazar shook his head in sorrow at what had happened to his house. "It was bad enough when Tom Riddle went through his years there, creating that _thing _as he had, but now it's even worse. The disease of his so-called teachings, everyone believing he's doing what he's done in my name… it's enough to make anyone sick."

"My House is no different. None of the Ravenclaws uses their knowledge, none of them even try to think outside of the box," Rowena commented, "there's a third-year girl. Luna Lovegood. She is shunned by the others, bullied for being different…and yet in my day, she would have been a star. I admit, I like a good book or text, but I always thought outside of the box. The worst of it is Ravenclaw has been this way for decades. I think Salazar is right; we have to do something about the Houses."

"I think they should be abolished," Salazar said.

The Founders looked at one another. Although their minds were separate, they were connected to one another, and they knew how everyone was thinking about the whole scenario.

"Do you think we should go that far?" Godric asked. "I mean what do we replace the Houses with? It took us a long time to work out the best way to educate the students was to place them in Houses where their minds were best suited and educate them on the way."

"I think you should abolish the Houses," a deep voice announced gravely, and they looked up and saw the portrait of the Sorting Hat.

"Arthur?" Rowena said. "What's your take on this?"

The Sorting Hat sighed. "It's failed, My Lady. Hogwarts….has failed. Every year I sing the Houses should be united, but each year my words go unheeded; one or two students do mix with others from different Houses, but otherwise, there is nothing. This latest year has proven to be disastrous. Dumbledore is currently in his office discussing with the other teachers," the Hat sniffed to make his opinion of the teachers known, "on the best way to make young Charlotte Potter forgive. It won't work. You all know what the mind of that girl is like."

The Founders muttered their agreement.

"Matters are worse. In the past decade, the hatred between the Gryffindors and the Slytherins have made it impossible for the school to be run the way any sane individual would expect a school to be run," the Sorting Hat went on.

"Not helped by my so-called descendant," Slytherin shook his head and scoffed. "I never had any relation with the Gaunt family, and yet that disgusting creature who calls himself my Heir thinks he's doing everything he has done in my name but in truth, he's only interested in lashing out at anyone he has perceived as being nasty to him or whom he has never liked."

"For better or for worse, our Houses have shaped the course of this country's magical history," Rowena observed, "but has it been for better or for worse?"

No-one answered her. They all knew the question was rhetorical, but the implications of what was being stated were hard for them to take. They would need to spend some time debating and thinking about it.


	6. Chapter 6 A Bad Ceremony

I am so sorry. I had hoped to get this out much sooner. Unfortunately, I began writing most of my latest chapters and new short stories right in the middle of a move. I had hoped I could beat it, and get this out before the chaos. But unfortunately, it never happened. Also, the annoyance which is not having access to the internet was another drain on my patience.

Anyway, I am back.

Enjoy.

* * *

The Hell of Fourth Year.

Charlotte stood still as Helga washed off the healing potions which had been inside the tank she'd been in for the last few hours. She had never particularly been a very healthy girl when compared to one of the other teenagers her own age in Hogwarts or in a muggle school, mostly stemming from the abuse she'd taken from the Dursleys before she had escaped to the streets; she might have spent some time been taken care of by the Salvation Army although the tight bastards had turfed her out onto the streets again until she had reached the realisation society truly did not give a damn about its own citizens, but thanks to her access to the storehouses of supermarkets and using whatever money she pinched here and there to buy good food, Charlotte had done her best to become as healthy as she could despite her lifestyle.

As she let Helga wash the potion off of her body, Charlotte couldn't take her eyes off of the reflection in the mirror. She had never really known a healthier person as limber as the one in the mirror could be here. She had never been truly strong, but seeing the healthier girl in the mirror who was slightly taller than she had been before looking back at her, Charlotte couldn't believe so many years had passed and she had even caught a glimmer of this girl in her life.

"Thank you," she said softly as she continued to look at her reflection, cursing herself for never once trying to seek out alternative magical medicines to repair the damage she'd received.

Helga smiled. "You're welcome," she said, but she looked down. "I'm so sorry for everything my House did."

Charlotte turned to the memory of the Hufflepuff Founder. She could hear the genuine regret in Helga's voice, see it in her body language.

Hufflepuff went on. "I don't recognise my own House anymore, none of us does. All of them have strayed, each one thinking they are embodying everything we were when in fact they're the opposite of what we had been."

Charlotte turned away, her stiff back making it clear this was one topic she wasn't interested in. And besides, she didn't want to get into some stupid debate about Hogwarts. But she couldn't help it. "There's only one Hufflepuff in your House who embodies what you represent, but the others only care for themselves, are only loyal to themselves."

Helga sighed. "You're right," she muttered sadly, wondering just how her House had fallen so badly. Something came into her mind as she caught sight of the girl. "You know," she began hesitantly, "we can repair the damage to your eye, we might be able to clone one."

Charlotte whirled around. "I never knew you could do that?"

"We can," Helga confirmed. "However it will take time."

Charlotte smiled. "I'd like that, thank you."

"I thought you might, so myself, Salazar and Rowena have already begun the cloning process, but it will take the best part of a year to repair the damage."

Charlotte sighed. "There's always something like that."

"Yes," Hufflepuff conceded grimly. "That's the problem with that type of magic. There are so many things that can go wrong, or you have to keep check of everything it isn't funny."

Charlotte grunted while she dressed in a simple shirt and trousers (Helga didn't see it as very ladylike, but Charlotte had pushed it out of her mind), and she went out again to meet with the other Founders. She'd had time to think in the healing tank; while it was fascinating the Founders of Hogwarts had survived in this manner, albeit without their original selves, she didn't know what they planned to do with her.

She sat down and took in the group, but she had so many questions on her mind she couldn't ask them right away since she needed time to get her act together.

"You have questions?" Ravenclaw observed.

Charlotte took a deep breath, holding back her frustration these people were still going through her mind without thinking of her privacy. "Why did you help me?" she asked the number one question on her mind.

The Founders looked at each other; Charlotte wondered what was going through their minds, but because she didn't know them that well she couldn't come up with anything definitive.

Gryffindor rubbed his moustache thoughtfully. "We…feel responsible for everything that has happened. We tried to get Dumbledore to stop, we pleaded with him through the Sorting Hat to stop this madness before it got out of hand like it has done many times before."

"Well, that worked," Charlotte quipped, knowing from experience Dumbledore believed he was always right and would never change his stance.

Ravenclaw snorted. "Dumbledore has never heeded anything we've said to him; he doesn't know whom he is speaking to, but he knows Hogwarts is essentially a living being with us in control. He believes he is right."

"That sounds like him," Charlotte commented.

"Why didn't you go into Slytherin, Charlotte?" Slytherin asked, looking at her curiously.

Charlotte lifted her one good eye and focused on the Slytherin Founder curiously. "I beg your pardon?" she asked, noticing how attentive and curious the other Founders were, clearly they weren't expecting the question either.

"Why didn't you go into Slytherin?" Slytherin repeated.

Charlotte leaned forward slowly. "I thought you already knew? I mean, you lot have been rooting through my head," she finished looking pointedly at them.

The question made little sense to her. These people were supposed to have access to her mind and her brain, so they would have known about her reasons behind not being sorted into Slytherin.

"We do, but there were parts of your thought processes which didn't make any sense."

Charlotte didn't believe that. "Okay. I'll tell you, although I don't see the point. When I first came into the magical world," she began thoughtfully as she remembered those early days, "everyone had so many expectations of me. I didn't care about any of them, but I knew Albus Dumbledore was my enemy. I noticed it early. Not only had he placed me with my abusive muggle relatives, but he also had a vested interest in everything I purchased in Diagon Alley. He had Hagrid scrutinise everything I bought when we were shopping, which only made me distrust him even more.

"When I went to Hogwarts, I had already discovered I could leave the magical world and Dumbledore if I studied for my OWLs, but the only way to do that was if I kept my head down. I didn't know at the time what Dumbledore would do to me if I didn't, but I wasn't going to try to do anything really stupid to attract his attention, so I just kept my head down," Charlotte explained. "That meant being sorted into Gryffindor and having to put up with the morons in that house."

Charlotte smirked at Gryffindor when she said that, grinning at the affronted look on his face.

Slytherin smiled at her, showing off a pair of fang-like teeth. "You would have made an excellent Slytherin, my dear."

_God, those things must terrify the crap out of anyone who gets on the wrong side of this guy, _Charlotte thought to herself, shivering at the thought of being on the receiving end of a smirk with those fangs revealed during a fight.

Slytherin's smile became a cruel smirk. "Oh, believe me, they do terrify the crap, as you say, out of people. Ah, the number of times I've unsettled people," he finished wistfully.

Charlotte sighed and looked away while she tried to shore up her occlumency barriers although she had a feeling it would do little good since she had been doing that for some time now. "Okay," she changed the subject and looked at the Founders. "I think I've satisfied your curiosity, now you can repay the favour. What do you want with me? If you want me to clean up this school, forget it; I want nothing to do with Hogwarts."

"We don't need you to do anything for us," Ravenclaw said.

"We can take control of Hogwarts at will, and we have plans already in place to relieve Dumbledore and any teacher we feel is not living up to the vision we had for this place," Helga wrung her hands for some reason Charlotte didn't know and didn't really care to know about, but she picked something out of that.

"You guys don't seem to be happy about the thought of taking Hogwarts over," she observed after a minute of studying the four Founders.

"We're not," Slytherin replied.

"The reason why Hogwarts has lasted this long is that our minds were uploaded into the school," Gryffindor explained. "That's it; while we have the means of appearing in front of students, and even taking over if certain events occur beyond the current Headmaster and faculty's control, we really shouldn't need to do anything like this."

"So….when your bodies died, you uploaded your minds into the castle?" Charlotte was struggling to understand.

"Yes," Slytherin nodded, although all of the Founders knew where the teenager was going with this.

"But surely Hogwarts has been like this for years, if not centuries," Charlotte said, "why bother now?"

"Actually, you're wrong," Slytherin said, seemingly the spokesperson for the Founders. "Hogwarts has never been like this. Yes, there was always a sort of rivalry between the Houses. At we time, we thought it would be good for morale among the students, help encourage them to do better. You see, Hogwarts was meant to create elites in the Wizarding World. Our society had always been fragmented, and it wasn't helped education varied from coven to coven. When we came together to do something about it, we came up with the idea of sorting students by their personalities. I would take the cunning and the ambitious, Helga, the hardworking and the loyal, and so on. The idea was to create four elites who would shape our community forever."

"Well, it's certainly done that," Charlotte spat.

She had been listening to Slytherin and she had been growing more and more annoyed these legendary figures had essentially been the start of the massive issues of Hogwarts. It stemmed from the Houses and the divisions between them. They were so wide the individual students never mixed with the students in other Houses unless of course the other students were aligned with their own agenda.

She knew her thoughts were being broadcasted to the Founders, but she didn't care.

"Surely you know about what the Houses have done to the minds of the students here, right?" Charlotte went on. "Couldn't you see when you did this the dangers inherent in creating Houses when you set the whole thing up?"

"Actually, we didn't," Gryffindor raised a hand up. "I will admit the creation of the Houses caused some dispute, but you have to understand we were trying to shape the future of the country. Unfortunately, we've failed. All we have done is cause pain for many generations of witches and wizards, Do you think we're proud of the House divisions, how everyone has these obscene ideas of what makes a Ravenclaw a Ravenclaw, or a Slytherin into a Slytherin? Do you think any of us," he didn't need to indicate the other Founders since Charlotte knew precisely who he was referring to, "wanted the future generations to lash out at each other simply because they went into a different House? Look at me; I wanted the brave and the honourable in my House? What do I get? I get people who lash out at students younger and weaker than they are, children who might actually want to do some good in the magical world, and over the years they end up becoming the dark wizards those idiots sorted into Gryffindor House not because those fools were right, but because they had gotten tired of the abuse. No, we wanted to create a society where our Houses would bring out the best in people. Alas, all it did was cause harm."

"The problem with witches and wizards throughout history, Miss Potter, is we place our heroes on pedestals," Ravenclaw sighed, "we place them there, believing them to be infallible gods who can do no wrong, and know everything. Unfortunately, we are not gods, we made mistakes. One of the biggest mistakes, and one we," she gestured around the room to her fellow Founders, "have been forced to live up to for years. We haven't done anything because our role in Hogwarts is to guide the castle throughout the generations while at the same time we learn all that is going on in the world to help us. We know we will need to change that stance, the only problem we're not certain how long it would take for us to change the magical world back into the opposite of where they are now."

"You want to change the magical world?" Charlotte scoffed. "Good luck. No-one in the magical world wants to change. In any case, what would you change?"

"That's where you're wrong," Hufflepuff was getting exasperated by the girl's lack of faith, but she knew a good deal of that ranged from the agony she was going through so she was willing to give Charlotte Potter a chance. "We knew we can change the Wizarding World. The first thing we would do would be to get rid of the teachers here. Too many of them might be doing their jobs well according to their remit, but take a look at some of them; many of them obey Albus Dumbledore, and they don't really care about the long term damage. One of the reasons why Dumbledore was able to place the ban on you was because of the Headmaster's order. However, the Headmaster's order is not absolute. We placed it there to ensure certain matters were used through, for _the good and the wellbeing of the students."_

Charlotte caught the emphasis in the Hufflepuff Founder's voice, and she got the feeling that the order Dumbledore had misused had been used in the past for something more beneficial. She wondered just how many times people had been abused by that same order, and not just by Dumbledore, but by other Headteachers down the years. She didn't want to know, but then a disturbing thought came into her mind, the headteacher used the order to abuse students in a worse way than the Dursleys did to her. She pushed that thought out of her mind when she caught sight of the Founder's expressions when they caught the thought. "You plan to replace Dumbledore? Well, you've got my vote, especially what he's done over the years," she said before she saw the flaw in the plan, "but how are you going to get away with that? Dumbledore is seen as a god."

"He won't have a choice," Slytherin smirked.

Charlotte eyed the Founder closely. She found she got along more with Slytherin, ironically enough, but the possibilities for what he might do were endless. "Okay," she said, changing the subject. "I still don't see where I come into this picture?"

"That's easy. We're going to help you train up to be the most powerful opponent in the Tri-wizard tournament," Ravenclaw said.

"You're going to help me, after everything that's happened in your school?" Charlotte said.

"Yes, my dear," Hufflepuff replied.

"You've done more for this school than anyone else, mostly because of self-preservation, but also because deep down you don't want anyone to suffer even if the same doesn't extend to your enemies," Slytherin said, "every one of the Champions in this current, and rather cruel, Tournament have their own supporters. You are certainly powerful by yourself, but to be honest, we are going to be helping you whether you like it or not."

Charlotte looked at him indecisively while she was trying to work out what the Founders got out of it in return, especially since they had made it very clear to her they were going to do something to rip Dumbledore's control away from Hogwarts.

Slytherin could see the girl was close to saying yes, but she felt she needed a push and he used the insight the Founders had gained from Charlotte's mind to help. "If you let us help you, we can help you in ways you cannot imagine. At the moment you don't give a damn one way or another about the tournament, but you have so many detractors out there, saying that you're an attention-seeking liar. Wouldn't you prefer to bloody their noses and rub it in at the same time if they saw you win?"

Charlotte thought about it. In truth she hadn't truly given any thought whatsoever about the tournament besides a few distant thoughts. Most of her concentration had gone into just finding ways of winging the tournament, but hearing Slytherin's point rang a bell with her. What if she did win the Tri-wizard tournament? What if she threw it into the faces of the people who had been sneering at her for weeks on end? The idea appealed to her greatly.

"Okay," she nodded. "I'm in."

XXX

Dobby popped into Charlotte's bedroom in the windmill and gently shook the girl awake. Charlotte moaned before she woke up. "Dobby?" she croaked.

The House Elf smiled. "Good morning, Chazzy Potter ma'am!"

Charlotte snickered at the perky House Elf, gazing affectionately at him. Dobby had a repertoire of names under his belt and he loved alternating between them regularly. "Good morning to yourself Dobby, how are you and Winky this morning?"

The House Elf blushed at the question. "We is good, Chazzy Potter."

"Why did you wake me?"

The House Elf's demeanour shifted and Charlotte saw he looked displeased. "There be a wand testing ceremony for the Tournament you need to attend," Dobby said, his massive tennis ball-like eyes focusing sadly on the sealed eye. The three smarter Hogwarts Founders had already harvested enough genetic material from Charlotte's original and slashed eye, and they had begun the healing process. Unfortunately, for the time being, to keep the wound clean they'd had to seal the eye with a magical glue.

Dobby and Winky had been horrified by what Charlotte had gone through, but they were thankful for the Founder's help, although they were surprised by their mistress' new allies.

Charlotte sighed. "Okay, Dobby," she told her friend who she knew wanted very much to go after the people he felt were responsible for what had happened to her eye, and while she agreed she didn't want him to get hurt. "Let me have a shower and let me get dressed, and I'll be downstairs in a few minutes, okay?"

The House Elf nodded and popped away, leaving Charlotte alone. The dark-haired girl got up and went into the shower where she washed her hair. She'd recently gotten it cut short into a low-maintenance haircut. Charlotte privately liked the way the new style, and the sunglasses, gave her face a harder appearance, and after she had let the water trickle down from her head for a second before waved her wand and dried it out completely.

As she got dressed in the same outfit of black running shoes, black trousers, black v-necked jumper which covered a white t-shirt which provided her with a lot of warmth, which she had needed on the streets of London, topped by her black leather jacket. She pulled out the long purple scarf out of her pocket and tied it around her head.

Charlotte shoved her wand into her pocket and she went to her bedside table and picked up a pair of green-tinted wraparound sunglasses and held them in her hand.

The Founders of Hogwarts had shown her they had the power to manipulate time to a limited degree, although to a more greater degree than the Time-Turners. For them she could spend up to a month studying when only a few hours passed for the outside world. Under their guidance she had learnt things about magic which were simply no longer taught anymore at Hogwarts, and it showed her just how limited and dumbed down magical education had become, and it made her wonder if Dumbledore was the only one to have done that over the years, or if the knowledge had simply been forgotten to all but a select few.

Charlotte had no idea.

But one thing she did know was she felt so much more powerful and skilled after spending the equivalent of half a year with the Founders, and she had certainly improved her spell repertoire in several fields beyond those taught currently at Hogwarts.

At the same time, Charlotte had been encouraged by the Founders to take a look into her parent's legacies. She had found a copy of their wills, and it disgusted her to the lengths Dumbledore had gone in meddling her life. At the same time, she had taken a look at the files her family had on the alliance. Charlotte had just thrown it away, rejecting it completely since she wasn't concerned much with the alliances of her family at this point. Instead, she had just written a lengthy letter of resignation from the school, along with some really good reasons why, and she planned on sending the letter's copies to the Ministry, and several news outlets so then the magical world knew her decision was not going to be changed. Ever.

Charlotte sighed and she opened the sunglasses up and she slid them onto her face. She gasped a little bit when the lens covering her empty eye socket suddenly received and transmitted information straight into her brain and it took the teenage witch a few minutes to recover and adjust for a second before she got used to the flow of stimuli entering her mind.

Charlotte looked at herself in the mirror and she shrugged. After a light breakfast, Dobby transported her to Hogwarts where she heard the mental voices of the Founders in her mind.

"_Make sure they regret it, little serpent," _she heard the distinctive voice of Slytherin say.

Charlotte smirked. "Oh, I intend to," she said under her breath.

"_Show them the truth of the tournament. There's no greater enemy than the truth."_

"_Make Dumbledore regret everything he's done."_

"_And the teachers who are there. Remember, dear; they could have overridden Dumbledore's order, but they didn't."_

"Oh, I intend to make them pay," Charlotte whispered. "No doubt about that," she added when she strode into the room where the Wand Weighing ceremony was taking place. It was taking place in one of the disused classrooms inside the castle which had been cleaned up for the ceremony and was as far from the rest of the school as possible so the students wouldn't be disturbed.

Charlotte opened the door slowly and took a look inside before she stepped into the room, stopping all conversation instantly as she strode into the room with her head held high while the light reflected off of the green tinted wraparound shades she was wearing. As she walked into the room, Charlotte had multiple photos of her new appearance taken. She knew in their minds, particularly the media, she was the most interesting person in the room. She had every reason to milk that to the full.

Charlotte just wanted the whole thing to be over with. Now. But before she could even make the effort to make herself comfortable, she suddenly felt someone grab her arm. Angry, the teenager wrenched her arm away and she caught sight of a woman with tightly curled blonde hair which was too white even by Malfoy's standards, wearing so much makeup on her face it made her look grotesque.

"Hello Charlotte, or can I call you Lottie? I am Rita Skeeter, Lottie, and I was hoping we could have a chat so you could tell me your story? There are many people out there who would be fascinated to know about what you have been through," Rita's face was split into a smile that she probably thought was charming, but it made her look disgusting.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow underneath her sunglasses as Skeeter began dragging her away towards a cupboard no matter what the teen said. She had heard of this woman ever since she had arrived in the magical world and what she'd heard had been more than enough to make her dislike everything Rita Skeeter stood for. She wasn't a journalist, she was a sensationalist. So many of the things she had written had made people look awful, but what made it worse was some of the things she said didn't seem like the type of information anyone would hand over freely. Charlotte had no doubt in her mind even if she trusted Skeeter, which she wouldn't, she would quickly regret it. In any case, the last thing she needed was some bitch making things harder than they were right now.

"Not a chance," Charlotte snarled and she wrenched her arm free from the woman's grip. "There's no chance I am going to have an interview with you only for you to spin it any way you like, just to sell your newspaper, although I have to congratulate you," Charlotte smirked suddenly, surprising them all, "if it weren't for the _crap_ you write, I wouldn't have anything to line the litter box Nightstar uses, and I wouldn't have a plentiful supply of paper to use when I run out of toilet paper, especially a year ago when I had a bad time after I'd eaten something I didn't like resulting in an awful case of the runs and I found an article that was perfect. Seriously, Miss Skeeter," the girl asked, "how do you get your articles so perfect for the use of being soft, strong, and thoroughly absorbent?"

Rita Skeeter's look was one many in the room would treasure forever, especially for the British wizards and witches. While Charlotte's description of what she used the Daily Prophet articles was graphic and rather disgusting, they had to admit it was a use they hadn't expected. They had to admit the girl had won that one hands down since they hadn't seen the reporter so astonished in their lives.

All geniality left Charlotte's face as she snarled at the reporter. "Don't touch me again. You will regret it in more ways than one."

Charlotte walked off. In her mind the interview was over, if it could be called that, leaving a shaken Skeeter behind. She smiled suddenly when she met Cedric.

"Hi, Cedric," she smiled happily at the sight of him. She noticed quickly he looked worn out, worried.

Cedric gave her a sad smile while he studied her closely. He frowned slightly when he saw her sunglasses, and he wondered like everyone else what they were used for. "Charlotte," he decided to begin bluntly. "I am so sorry, I am so truly sorry about what happened-."

"Cedric," Charlotte cupped his face gently. "It wasn't your fault."

"I think it was. She saw together, she saw me hug you-."

Charlotte shook her head. "It doesn't matter now, the deed is done. I can't change it. You didn't cause this," she pointed at her sunglass covered eye. "Please, don't beat yourself up about it."

Cedric was about to argue when a nearby snort interrupted them. "Are you still showing off, little girl?" the haughty accented voice of Fleur Delacour announced the presence of the French champion. "Now she has finally arrived, receiving her daily dose of attention, can we not carry on, non?"

"You know what, it sounds like you've been listening to the greasy potions bastard in this school," Charlotte turned around slowly to face Fleur head on, "You also strike me as the type who likes making assumptions about others without getting the full details. Do you want me to show what this tournament has done to me?" Suddenly Charlotte's voice rose to an angry cat-like snarl. "You all will!"

With that, she yanked off her sunglasses and with her fingers she prised her sealed up eyelid and exposed the empty cavity.

Everyone looked on in horror, and Fleur covered her mouth and looked down. "Oh no you don't," Charlotte grabbed the French girl's face and with anger-induced strength, she grabbed Fleur's face and showed the French girl the empty cavity. "Take a good long look. Does it look like I'm asking for attention now?! What's wrong, you French slapper? Don't you like blood? You've all driven me near madness with your scorn, and now I've snapped."

With that Charlotte shoved the horrified Fleur away and she placed the sunglasses back on her face. She had noticed Dumbledore looking like he wanted nothing more than to be sick and horrified while McGonagall looked like she was either about to faint or burst into tears, while Sprout looked on in horror. Maxime looked horrified as well, but Karkaroff looked like he didn't know what he should think.

Charlotte sighed and walked off, hoping to be left alone, but she looked up and smiled when she found Cedric standing over her, holding out a handkerchief. "What's that for?" she tilted her head curiously up at him.

"You're bleeding," he replied.

Charlotte reached out a finger to her eye and it came away with droplets of blood. "Oh," she sheepishly replied. "Thanks." She dabbed the eye and she waved her wand over the hanky to remove the bloodstain before she handed it back to Cedric, who took it. He sat next to her.

"Do you really use Rita Skeeter's articles to line your cat's litter box?" he asked with a smirk.

Charlotte giggled. "Yeah, I do. She produces enough articles about people, it's impossible not to make use of them. In any case, they are rubbish; I've seen enough similar reporters in the muggle world, but compared to her, they're more subtle."

Cedric looked down and tried to stop himself laughing.

Charlotte carried on. "Of course, I need to be careful to remove the worst of the lead content in the paper since its toxic, but it's better than most. But truthfully," her expression became serious as she looked at him through her sunglasses which was a very odd disconcerting sight for Cedric since he had no idea what the sunglasses were actually for, "I don't want that woman anywhere near me, Cedric. Look at her right now."

Cedric did as he was told. He wasn't surprised when he saw Rita Skeeter watching them closely with a grin on her disgustingly made-up face, and he sighed mentally, guessing where this was going to go when she printed her next article.

"What's happening in the school at the moment, Cedric?" Charlotte changed the subject. "I haven't been in circulation for a bit."

Cedric sighed for real. "Dumbledore has finally come out and said you didn't put your name in the Goblet. Several of the teachers backed him up, but beyond that, not a lot. I've mostly been ignoring the Gryffindors and the rest of the school. It's just the hypocrisy that annoys me; Dumbledore knew you didn't put your name into the Goblet, but he placed that ban on the teachers stopping them from helping you."

"I doubted they would have helped," Charlotte pointed out, remembering what the Founders had told her about Dumbledore's actions in the past. "They could have said no to Dumbledore, Cedric; McGonagall would have had the authority to override Dumbledore's order. She's the deputy headteacher, and yet she seemed to have forgotten that. She could have. She should have. She didn't. What does she do instead? Fuck all. And my eye was slashed as a result because none of the teachers are smart to use their common sense."

Cedric noticed Charlotte had said it out loud, and her voice was loud enough to reach over the deputy headmistress. He glanced in McGonagall's direction, and he saw her look down in shame, shaking like she was about to cry but was trying to hold it in. He found he couldn't muster the sympathy for her. "What about you, Charlotte, what have you been doing?" he asked to change the subject.

Charlotte sighed. "I've been trying to find a way I can survive the tournament, Cedric. I've also been thinking about things…," she looked down.

"What things?" he asked mildly.

She looked at him. "Everything."

Ludo Bagman stepped forward before the Hufflepuff boy could ask her what she meant. "Excuse me, everyone," the ex-Beater beamed around the room, although his face took on a calculated gleam as he noticed Charlotte he quickly got a hold of himself. "The Wand Weighing is about to begin. But before we start, I should tell you we have decided on the First Task of the Tri-wizard tournament. The tasks will be broadcasted worldwide, meaning everyone in the magical community will be seeing you compete."

Bagman paused dramatically while he slipped his wand out of his pocket. "The First Task will involve an obstacle course, where you Champions will be expected to use your wits and your skills to outthink the traps which will be placed inside. Your objective will be to retrieve this," he flicked his wand and the image of a golden egg appeared in thin air. "The Golden Egg. There is only a single egg for you to collect, and it is imperative you collect it in order to win the task. There are three levels. The first level involves all of you fighting each other. All of you Champions are expected to have helpers in order to help you defend yourselves while you retrieve the egg."

"Do we have to choose these helpers, or do you do it for us?" Charlotte asked.

Bagman was surprised by the unexpected question from the youngest Champion, but he recovered quickly. "You are the ones who will choose, Miss Potter. You can place a list with me, and I will take the list to my Ministry Office to make it official. You have until the end of the week in order to decide and choose. Remember, you need at least twenty people to help you. Now," Bagman flicked his wand and vanished the image of the Egg, "the Weighing of the Wands. Our Mr Ollivander is waiting."

Charlotte quickly saw the elderly wand maker approaching. He hadn't changed much in the three years since she had last seen him, although he had changed his clothes, appearing less worn and more formal than before.

Krum went first, holding out his wand.

Ollivander took it in her hand and examined it closely. "Hmm, yes, an interesting wand…Gregorvitch, am I right?"

Krum nodded.

"Yes, I thought so….the rigidity and the rough-hewn shape is indicative of his work, however, he does so because he likes providing thickness to the outer shell of the wand. Hmm, ten inches," the wandmaker said, "Hornbeam wood, one dragon heartstring. Like I said it is very rigid, however it is in excellent working order, and," he flicked the wand and a display of vivid red sparks were sprouted from the tip, "in excellent condition, and is a perfect fit."

Ollivander handed the wand back to Krum, who took it with a bow.

Ollivander turned to Fleur. "Madame?"

Fleur stepped forward. She was still slightly shaken by the encounter she'd had with Charlotte, however she did her best to push that aside as she handed her wand over to Ollivander. He took the wand in his hands and examined it for a moment before he looked at her. "Yes, nine and a half inches…made from rosewood and inflexible. It contains…oh my, I can't identify it.." he looked at Fleur questioningly.

"A hair from a Veela," Fleur spoke up. "One of my grandmothers."

"Hmm, yes," Ollivander looked down at the wand. "Veela hair makes for a temperamental wand, especially if its not in the wielder's favour."

Ollivander flicked the wand, and a beautiful bunch of flowers appeared which the wand smith handed to her along with the wand. Fleur smiled and left, leaving the road open for Cedric.

Ollivander brightened when he saw the wand presented to him. "Ah. One of mine. I remember, yes, I remember it well. Twelve and a quarter inches, made from ash, and very springy, containing the hair of a particularly fine male unicorn. Very nearly gored me to death, but it is extremely well maintained, and in excellent condition."

Cedric nodded with a blush and nodded sheepishly. "Yes, I polished it yesterday."

Ollivander smiled and he flicked Cedric's wand, creating a rainbow display of fireworks before he handed the wand back over to Cedric.

Charlotte stepped forward and Cedric stepped out of the way to give the younger girl some room. Ollivander's smile faded and he looked at her sadly.

"They hurt you so much, didn't they?" he observed, studying her closely.

The girl nodded. She didn't see the point in replying, in any case Ollivander had probably seen the empty eye cavity, so what was the point?

Ollivander continued to look at her with sympathy. Charlotte raised a brow. "Pity?"

"A little bit," the older wizard said. "I am just saddened this has happened, especially under the watch of the current generation of teachers."

Charlotte snorted and folded her arms for a moment. "I never had any faith in them to begin with, Mr Ollivander. Just like I have never really trusted anyone. I've learnt my lesson; I put my trust in the security of this school. My eye paid the price. Next time I might lose my head, or my life. I am not going to let it happen again, just because the teachers are very stupid, and the students are allowed to run around like hooligans because Dumbledore refuses to punish them; if I had my way, Susan Bones would have been swinging from a rope by now. My family gave their lives for me to live. They didn't die for me to be shoved into something like this where I'm used as a publicity stunt, or someone my family had an alliance with would slash my eye out, or be used as a puppet for some old fool with delusions of grandeur."

The teachers winced, and McGonagall looked even more pained while Ollivander set a contemptuous look at Dumbledore before he turned to Charlotte. Everyone in the room knew how seriously an alliance was taken, they all know Charlotte's public statement would find its way into the Daily Prophet and cause more problems for the Bones family, and for Dumbledore.

Charlotte sighed and pulled out her wand and held it in the palm of her hand.

Ollivander's eyes widened and he looked at Charlotte in surprise. "Another wand?" he asked, seeing instantly it was nothing like the wand he had sold to her only a few years back.

"I've had it for some time. During my second year at Hogwarts, I was suspected of being the one guilty of attacking and petrifying students; stupid since if I really wanted to attack anyone, why would I advertise? Anyway, my original wand was damaged slightly, causing a minute crack to appear when someone attacked me. The incident made me realise the dangers of having a single wand, so I got a new one," Charlotte confessed; it went against the grain, especially since this secret was something she had kept for a while. "But before I'd done some research, and no offence while your wand was powerful, I always wanted something that spoke about my personality. In any case, I've started using this one more frequently since the bastard lions decided they were funny, and they caused extreme damage to the wand until it was nothing more than a splinter."

She smiled down at the wand while McGonagall and Dumbledore looked sick at her coldly spoken words. Rita Skeeter was enjoying herself while she wrote on her notebook.

It was black and was considerably longer than her original with the handle curled around it, but embossed in silver were a skull and crossbones symbol.

Ollivander stepped forward, but Charlotte pulled back slightly. "Erm, give me a moment, custom wands are security conscious, and this one certainly packs a number of punches," she warned.

She took the wand and ran a finger down the length.

"It's safe," she said simply before she handed it over to Ollivander, who took it gingerly since he had recognised the spell as representing the deactivation of a number of failsafes.

"Amazing," the old wand-maker whispered. "This is truly a work of art…Blackthorn and ash outer casing with an inner casing made from…ceramic?" he looked up at Charlotte who nodded before he resumed his examination. "Containing…oh my?" he gaped at her in awe. "A piece of Basilisk brain with pieces of fang, scales and venom in the veins."

Charlotte nodded while everyone regarded the wand with shock. "The piece of the brain is designed to give the spells I cast with more intelligence, the pieces of fang and scales are meant to provide the spells with sharpness and resilience, and the venom is just for more power."

"How did you find basilisk parts? They are notoriously rare!" Ollivander realised he had raised his voice a little too loud, but Charlotte took it with a smile.

"I killed a basilisk two years ago. I cashed in on some of the parts, made myself a small fortune and it earned me favour with the goblins," Charlotte said, not seeing Dumbledore look iller since he knew when word of this got out, then Snape would be furious at the loss of priceless ingredients. "They put me onto a wandmaker who made me this wand. Er, I'll show you the memory right now, but you'd better give the wand back. The defence plans will be fatal if you hold on."

Ollivander heeded the warning and he handed the wand back to Charlotte, who took it and she reactivated the wands defences before she placed the tip of her wand to her temple and projected the memory of the entire Chamber of Secrets mess.

Fleur clapped her hand to her mouth when she saw the memory progress, especially when she saw the younger Charlotte Potter confront the younger Lord Voldemort himself. She gasped in shock when she saw a phoenix swoop in and save the girl, who drew a magnificent sword out of a hat, only to get poisoned herself when she plunged the sword through the snake's mouth.

Viktor Krum did not know what to think. His opinion of Charlotte Potter was shooting up and up with every second although it had horrified him when he had seen the depths the Hogwarts population had sunken to. But seeing this…He had to accept the fact, especially when she plunged the basilisk fang into the diary containing the Dark Lord's younger self - how had he managed that? - and defeat him, only for the phoenix to save her life, the girl was a formidable opponent in battle.

Cedric knew full well his House had caused Charlotte a lot of pain and misery that year, but he had done little to stop it. Watching as the tiny girl fought such a monster which the teachers should have dealt with just a sword….it was unthinkable. Cedric knew Charlotte had struck a dozen blows to Hogwarts and the Bones family as well as the Daily Prophet, but this one…this one was the biggest punch. He had already apologised to Charlotte before, twice, but he had no idea what he could say or do to make up for his own mistakes.

Charlotte stopped the memory when it had reached the part where she had gotten to the part where she had gotten Weasley out.

"Good luck, Miss Potter," Ollivander smiled gazing at the girl with respect.

Charlotte nodded back. "Thank you, Mr Ollivander," she replied before she said to the rest of the room at large, "See you around."

Charlotte walked towards the door, pulling some of the people inside the room out of their surprise. They began calling for her to come back so she could answer their questions, but she ignored them.

Dumbledore called out, "Charlotte, wait!"

He flicked his wand out and sealed the door. Charlotte groaned and turned around. "What do you want?" she asked.

"We need to talk," Dumbledore replied, casting a quick glance around the room. "However, maybe if we do this in private-."

"No chance," Charlotte snarled. "Say what you've got to say and then piss off."

Everyone was surprised by the rudeness. Dumbledore himself was extremely stunned.

"What, did you really think after you'd heard me confess I didn't go anywhere near the Goblet of Fire, and then told the teachers not to do anything when I was attacked day after day I was going to speak to you again?" Charlotte asked before turning to McGonagall. "And what about you, Professor? I hope you're not thinking of trying to make amends. You might think it's childish, but wait and see this."

Charlotte projected another memory, this time showing McGonagall how she had walked into the Gryffindor common room and only narrowly stopped Ron Weasley from killing her cat. "After seeing that, do you honestly think I'm going to forgive anyone in Hogwarts? That I am willing to even speak to someone. Think again. Nightstar could have died, all because that fucking pig thought he had the right to kill my cat because he was the one doing it, to punish me for something I didn't even do, and you would have twinkled those fucking eyes of yours, telling me to forgive, turning a blind eye while keeping your head in the clouds, like always. As if I would. If anyone tries to kill my cat or any other animal I have, lets just say they won't have long before I make them pay. And if Weasley had killed Nightstar, I would have killed his sister, his brothers, and his parents, before maiming him. Then he would have had what he'd wanted; fame on a plate.

"Do you know what I don't get; why do you play games with other people's lives? Are you so bored you would drive students to become dark lords, as if Grindelwald was not enough, or even to suicide, and now you want to do the same to me when I just want to be left alone and live my life in peace? Don't I deserve that, a life of peace without you poking your long, broken nose where it doesn't belong? Stay away from me, you bastard. Your meddling will be the death of you one day, only I won't be the one to make you answer for it."

Charlotte flicked her wand at the door and unlocked it before she walked out. But her last question stunned the entire audience, even Dumbledore, whose face was pale.


	7. Chapter 7 The Beginning

Disclaimer - I don't own Harry Potter.

Some of the dialogue was inspired by Black Lagoon's character Revy; fans of Black Lagoon should take note of the double wands - Revy uses two guns stamped with the jolly roger. So does Charlotte.

There's also a St. Trinians reference.

* * *

The Hell of Fourth Year.

McGonagall walked into the staffroom and the moment she saw the few visible copies of the Daily Prophet lying around, she knew this was not going to be a meeting she was going to like. Then again who would like seeing a teenage girl who was the last heiress of a very old family, someone who should have been nurtured and protected both in and out of Hogwarts but had instead been allowed to be abused more times than anyone would care to think of reveal an empty eye cavity? The sight of the empty cavity had sent waves throughout the magical world, although Minerva had no doubt in her head, or in her heart, the ramifications would cause problems for Hogwarts for generations to come.

Personally Minerva believed the whole mess was well deserved. It was another example of how far Dumbledore's ridiculous policies and badly thought out schemes had gone, but Minerva hoped and prayed the recent acts of Susan Bones and what the results had been for Charlotte had been the wakeup call for Dumbledore. Somehow she doubted it; the old fool had been too comfortable for far too long. He was unlikely to change that completely simply because of a hiccup in his precious schemes. But she was haunted by what she'd overheard Charlotte say to Mr Diggory about how she herself could have used her position to override Dumbledore's ban.

Charlotte was right. As the Deputy Headmistress, she had if not the authority but the responsibility to override Dumbledore's orders and decisions if he went too far. It was an old rule designed to protect the students and the staff. Unfortunately, when the old fool had made the decision to ban anyone from helping Charlotte, Minerva had just bowed her head, certain at the time Albus Dumbledore knew what he was doing.

It was a terrible error of judgement.

She should have argued, but like always whenever Dumbledore said something to her, she just went along with it. Like always. What made it worse was she had done it not once, but several times in the past. Dumbledore just had this way of making her do things she knew in her heart was wrong. Minerva hated to believe it herself, but she had to face facts; she was a terrible Head of House and she was an even worse Deputy Headmistress. She wished she had overridden Dumbledore's control and stopped him playing this vile game again. Now it was too late.

But the memories Charlotte had projected, the memory of how she'd stopped the basilisk back in her second year after being scorned, tormented and shunned by everyone including Minerva herself, and the memory of how Charlotte's cat Nightstar had come dangerously close to being killed by Weasley, it showed Minerva just how out of control the students were.

It was bad enough Weasley did it for reasons Minerva could not work out since Weasley wasn't in anyway intelligent, but if he thought Charlotte was just going to turn a blind eye to that disgusting action that even she had found hard to stomach since Minerva was a cat lover herself and her own animagus form was a cat and the thought the redheaded idiot who was already in the lower places in the Gryffindor scores because he didn't apply himself even with Miss Granger around would just kill a cat because he'd wanted to punish Charlotte, and be friends with him again, well it would make her question the family gene pool.

Dumbledore's policies of blanket forgiveness, turning a blind eye to the bullying at large, was doing more harm than good. Even worse, some of the teachers themselves, who were meant to be preventing that sort of thing, were bullying students as well. Hogwarts needed to change, and now before students began to slaughter each other, certain their bloodlines and family connections as well as Dumbledore's….she didn't even know what it was would keep them safe. It was an attitude which was becoming prevalent in the magical world as well, but whatever it was it had started after the war with Grindelwald. When she had first worked with Dumbledore, McGonagall had been impressed with his skill as an educator, and he had been fair but firm, so what had happened?

Unfortunately she didn't know the answer to those questions, and Minerva doubted very much they would ever be answered.

She had to look away from the picture of the daughter of her favourite students prise open the empty cavity; it was bad enough in reality, and then later her dreams where the Potters she had known throughout her life starting from Charlus and Dorea yelled at her, saying this was her fault for being a truly pathetic teacher to Lily looking like she wanted nothing better than to tear one of _her eyes out_, to James who looked like he wanted nothing more than to kill her.

It was worse with Charlotte. Always the dream would show Minerva the little bundle of joy Charlotte had been, only for everything to turn to that dark mess where the girl's parents were snatched from her by that twisted bastard who'd waged a genocidal war on the whole magical world because he hadn't liked a small group of people, and the moment where Charlotte had been dropped on the doorstep of her relatives. In the dream, Charlotte had opened her eyes, only one of them was an empty cavity. Minerva would always wake up in a cold sweat.

It had been two days since the wand weighing ceremony, and in those two days she had been haunted by the same horrific dream, she would see a little baby with just one eye, and it never failed to wake her up in a cold sweat. Minerva didn't try to stop the dreams.

She needed them.

She needed something to stoke the fire of realisation of just how useless a teacher and Head of House she genuinely was, and she needed something to use to help her stand up to Dumbledore, and see her responsibilities instead of allowing the older man to manipulate the students while she was nothing but a tool.

McGonagall knew in her heart Charlotte would never forgive her. She could see it in the girl's expression - those green-tinted sunglasses (she wondered if the girl had chosen to wear them as a fashion statement, but she doubted it; while Charlotte liked to dress to impress, she wasn't that fashion conscious but since they weren't on any kind of speaking terms, she knew she couldn't just ask the girl what they were for) had stopped her seeing the girl's remaining eye, but she could see by the set of her face that Charlotte was not going to forgive anyone, and Minerva couldn't blame her.

"We can't just let the girl get away with it!" McGonagall sighed when she heard the unwelcome sound of Snape's voice. She ignored the greasy-haired man child and went to pour herself some tea to steady her nerves for a meeting she knew was guaranteed to be frustrating.

"Get away with what, Severus?" Filius asked.

"With taking the basilisk parts!" Snape snapped in a _isn't it obvious _voice. "She has no rights to it. As it was in the Chamber of Secrets, which I doubt-."

"Stop right there, Severus!" McGonagall surprised herself with the harsh bark that came out of her mouth as she turned around to pin the potions teacher with a harsh glare. "It did happen. I watched as the girl projected the memory of how she defeated the basilisk, and she was telling the truth. She was always telling the truth, and we scorned her the whole time. And as for that part where she has no rights to it, its a bit late don't you think?"

Snape pulled himself up, glancing over to Dumbledore who was sitting in his chair, looking more depressed than usual. McGonagall knew Charlotte's harsh words and the way she'd acted during the ceremony had gotten to him, but personally she didn't care. Dumbledore needed a dose of reality. It was time he saw the consequences of his actions, but whether he would learn from the experience or not, she had no idea.

But what made McGonagall most laugh herself sick was that for all Snape's knowledge, all his skills and talents, after everything he had done in Hogwarts as he drifted down the same disgusting path many of the young students who'd ended up becoming Death Eaters, he was still turning to Dumbledore for help.

"She's right, Severus," Flitwick looked as though he were trying hard to resist the urge to snicker at the wizard who could be more petulant than many of the teenagers in the school. "If the paper is right, and I've no doubt it is, the deal Miss Potter made with the goblins is air-tight. Surely you know the laws - anyone who kills a dangerous magical creature owns it and can do whatever they wish with the profits. It's the law, and you might think you can do whatever you like since you are under Albus' protection for your crimes in the past, but I wouldn't try contesting this since the goblins _won't care one little bit _if Charlotte killed the basilisk inside of Hogwarts or not. Once inside Gringotts, you are under goblin jurisdiction; you might think in your arrogance you're above goblins or other creatures," the little professor looked at him with an expression of contempt, although there was a set in the half-goblin's expression which made it clear what he really thought, "but even your precious Dark Lord would lose in a battle against goblin magic. And Ragnok himself might just have you sentenced to life imprisonment, where you'd clean out the dragon pens with the other fools who thought they could do whatever they wanted in goblin territory."

McGonagall nodded. "And we all know how seriously the goblins take their deals and contracts, and what happens to those who get on the wrong side of them."

Snape knew about the goblins reputation only too well, but he couldn't stand the thought of valuable ingredients being lost to him. "There must be something you can do," he swung around desperately to Dumbledore, hoping the old wizard would be of some help in this situation. "Albus, you can talk to the girl-."

"Oh, why don't you shut up and think for the first time in your life, Severus?!" Poppy Pomfrey snapped at last in frustration. "Stop thinking with your mouth and give your brain a chance to function for a change!"

Everyone in the room was stunned by Poppy's outpouring since it was rare, very rare she ever really interacted or come into the staffroom in the first place.

Poppy used the shock she'd just caused to further her case. She had heard there would be a staff meeting today, two days after the wand weighing ceremony since there was a rumour although it was more likely to be the truth that Dumbledore had been left shaken after what Charlotte had said to him in anger. She'd decided that the next staff meeting she would be there. She believed it was about time Dumbledore and the rest of the staff saw reality.

"Why would Charlotte even listen to anything you or he," she angrily gestured towards Dumbledore, "has to say? After what Dumbledore has done, why should she trust him again? What, do you really think she cares about your precious ingredients? If you get in her face, she will either curse you or ignore you. She sold the basilisk parts for other potion masters and mistresses to use; the fact you're not included means she knew she was slapping you in the face. Why should she care about what you want, Severus?"

Poppy stood up and walked around. "I know that girl, far better than most of you. And let me tell you something which will probably stun you rigid Severus. This feud between you and James Potter, and your lust - lets face reality, what you felt for Lily was _nothing _like love, as some might believe," she sent a harsh sneering glare at Dumbledore which surprised everyone, although the message was clear, "you took it seriously, didn't you?" she directed the rhetorical question towards Snape, who was looking at her with growing anger. "James himself took some of it seriously, although he probably did not know how seriously _you took it, _especially since you have only Charlotte left to take your anger out on. How pathetic are you, and cruel, to involve a child who's not only an orphan because of that bastard whom you idolised when you were in that emo phase of yours in a feud that started because you got into an argument over a girl.

"Charlotte, on the other hand, _does not care _about your grudge. At all. She doesn't care if you thought you loved her mother. She doesn't care if her father bullied you or not. She doesn't give a toss about what you think you had gone through during your life. She sees you as, in her words, _a pathetic loser who will get a broken neck if he doesn't shut his fucking mouth. _Her words, Severus," Poppy pointed out, surprising everyone with just how crassly she has spoken. "You won't get a thing, Severus. Albus can't help you. You're going to have to accept that, and all that rubbish about Charlotte being arrogant and _"like her father," _she said in a mocking but accurate imitation of Snape's frequent rants about Charlotte, "is in your head. She doesn't even know anything about her parents, not since your other master snatched them from her.

"Charlotte is her own person. And there is nothing you can do about it despite spending all of this time saying she is a female version of James. She already looks at you with contempt and apathy. If I were you, Severus, Albus, I'd back away from her. I don't know what she will do if you get in her face, but I can tell you….it won't be pretty," Poppy's tone was ominous. "I saw Charlotte snap when the basilisk petrified Nightstar back in her second year….It was not nice, but now its worse. You have abused her, we all have. If we get in her face now, there's no telling what she will do."

Minerva shuddered as she remembered the scream of rage she remembered coming from Charlotte when she had discovered her familiar had been petrified by the basilisk. After that she had gone on a raging rampage, and several of the students who had attacked her over the term - again, because Dumbledore refused to help - learnt the hard way of just how vicious the girl was. It had earned Charlotte a two-week detention, but the fact remained Charlotte Potter could be a very very dangerous girl.

It was a lesson they had foolishly ignored.

Now….Now the girl was bound to be more terrifying.

"Poppy," Dumbledore straightened in his chair at the public reminder of Severus Snape's past as a Death Eater, something he had always tried to suppress, "Severus has my complete trust."

Pomfrey didn't bother to respond to that. "And then there's you, Albus," she went on, ignoring what Dumbledore had just said. "Because of you, Charlotte has no trust in any of us, and believe me, she had no reason to trust any of us."

"Poppy," Sprout looked at her old friend curiously. "Just how much do you know about Charlotte Potter?"

Poppy took a deep breath and closed her eyes, anything to prevent Severus or Albus from using their legilimency skills on her although she knew they wouldn't go that far unless they thought they could get away with it. As a Healer, Poppy was meant to have extremely capable shields for a number of applications, and it came in handy when you worked alongside two men who didn't give a thought about the boundaries. "I can't say anything else," she said, thankful she had the excuse and there was nothing Dumbledore could do about it. "Patient-Healer confidentiality, and I don't care how you take that.

"But I will tell you this; Charlotte has snapped, I don't know what she will do. But I would stay clear of her."

XXX

The Daily Prophet's article which mostly focused on Charlotte and the confirmation of the attack on the girl which had resulted in the loss of one of her eyes was like an avalanche that hit Hogwarts and the Bones family very badly, especially since Charlotte had claimed she would have preferred seeing Susan Bones swinging from a rope rather than the kind of thing Dumbledore believed was justice.

The article and the statement sent shockwaves through the Alliance the Potter family had been allied with for centuries. Amelia Bones was left trying to mitigate the worst of the damage with the help of other alliance members, although there was little they could do.

Back at Hogwarts, the mood had transformed very quickly. The expulsion of Susan Bones had made several of the teachers take advantage of the surprise, and they had begun punishing the students who were involved in bullying. They knew it was a lost cause, but since Dumbledore was more concerned about getting the precious Girl Who Lived back on his side, they decided to make a few things stick as well as they could while they had the time before Hogwarts' policy returned to its familiar turn-a-blind-eye-because-Albus-Dumbledore-didn't-care-to-severely-punish-anyone approach to student discipline.

The big problem?

Many of the teachers had also fallen into that stupid practice, and it caused many problems. It also did not really help matters some of the newer teachers had been at Hogwarts themselves when Dumbledore had been headmaster, so they had spent seven years there themselves, and they didn't really know anything different.

The article with Charlotte exposing her empty eye cavity right on the front page of the Daily Prophet was like a bludger to the head, especially for the worst of the extremists in the castle. Many of them were now realising they had gone too far, and they were now redoubling their efforts to find Charlotte and make amends. Though they did their best in the end it was a forlorn hope. Charlotte had simply vanished, no-one knew where she was or what she was doing.

Many of the people who were out there looking for her had read in the Daily Prophet about the details of the First Task had read that the Champions were expected to have helpers. But unfortunately Charlotte wasn't seen anywhere, so they could not ask her if they could be her chosen.

In the meantime the Champions had their hands full with the tournament. They trained and researched the various spell chains they felt would be needed to help them in anyway in the First Task, and as the clock ticked down and down towards the day the task would begin, there was no sign or even any word about Charlotte.

And then one day...

XXX

Professor McGonagall wondered why Dumbledore had called this latest staff meeting although there was little doubt Charlotte Potter was involved in some way since the girl was usually involved in some way.

Why else would Albus call for a staff meeting two days before the task began?

Ever since the article had come out about Charlotte's lost eye and the part of her wand with several basilisk parts, Dumbledore had been trying to mitigate fears and allegations Hogwarts was unsafe although personally Minerva saw their fears as logical.

She walked into the staff room, noticing every teacher was in, but she was surprised to find the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons heads were also present, along with Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman, both looking grave and even shaken up by something. McGonagall sagged, wondering what Charlotte had done to get this reaction.

Albus Dumbledore was standing up already by the time the meeting began. Without preamble and for once he got straight to the point instead of letting it out slowly like he normally did; that alone worried McGonagall, and judging from a quick glance around at some of the older professors, who had caught on as well, since they knew Dumbledore preferred to lead and steer conversations on a bit before he got to the point in order to get more information. It was not like Dumbledore to be blunt.

"The First Task will begin in two days time. Already three of the Champions have chosen their supporters, and everything is prepared. Unfortunately we haven't heard anything from the Fourth Champion. Until now. This morning, I received a visit from Charlotte. At first I had assumed she had come to ask me for help, but she wasn't there for that," Dumbledore said bluntly and looked down at his feet.

"Well, Dumbledore, get on with it!" Igor snapped harshly. "What did the girl want?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Charlotte has resigned from Hogwarts and she's also disowned it."

McGonagall gasped in horror while the rest of the staff chatted amongst themselves for a few minutes while Olympe and Igor stood there in shocked silence. "Is there no way she can persuade her to change her mind?"

"No," Dumbledore replied gravely. "But it gets worse. As the last heiress and the definite future head of the Potter family, Charlotte has the ultimate authority of that House. And she has used it. Charlotte has withdrawn the Potter family from Hogwarts permanently. She says she will not allow any of her future children to be endangered in an environment which is clearly unsafe."

The teachers were astonished. The Potters, like the Longbottoms, the Boneses and the Notts were some of the oldest magical families in Britain, and they had been sending their children, although there were a few rarities here and there from time to time, to Hogwarts for generations. For Charlotte to do this, especially on the eve of an international tournament….

McGonagall was shaken. She had hoped there would be some way to persuade Charlotte to forgive them despite Poppy making it clear it was never going to happen. But now she could see that the nurse's warnings were correct. Charlotte had now withdrawn from the school, and there was nothing they could do about it given her status as the heiress of an old magical family. But Minerva knew this would send shockwaves and the damage to Hogwarts' prestige since they were losing not just an old magical family, but someone as famous and as revered as the Girl Who Lived would be virtually incalculable and even Dumbledore would have problems weathering the storm.

It served the old fool right, though. If he had made different decisions when Charlotte's name had come out of the Goblet, none of this would be happening.

"What does this mean for her place in the tournament?" Sprout whispered, shocked since she knew it was the actions of herself and her House that was partly responsible for this mess.

"I asked her that," Dumbledore's voice was soft since the meeting with Charlotte had clearly rattled him. Indeed, he couldn't get the way Charlotte had removed those sunglasses off so she could glare at him and show how much contempt she had for him, and the things she had said to him had shaken him to the core. The fact the glare had been made with her single good eye was even more unpleasant. "She said she would be representing her family. She said that this decision has been made, and she has already taken the needed steps to resign as a student from Hogwarts and she had already prepared a letter for the media. She might hate it, but she planned it down to the last detail.

"Charlotte has had enough. For years, people have been attacking her and she has snapped in more ways than one; not only is she lashing out at us politically, she is doing this for her family. She made it clear to me she is going to be etching a lesson to punish everyone who has mocked her, and who has mistreated her. She refuses to allow it be spat on anymore. She had the right paperwork sorted out, so there was nothing I could do about it; she said she was tempted to take it over my head, but she decided that she wanted to see me squirm, her words."

McGonagall was glaring angrily at Dumbledore pointedly. _This is your fault! You and your damn games. You can clean up this mess for once in your damn life! _The glare seemed to be saying.

But the Head of the Lions was feeling a cold chill. She felt as if someone powerful who had been attacked too often and too frequently was gazing at them down through narrowed eyes of malice. She felt as if someone had declared war on Hogwarts itself. She felt physically sick at what she had just learnt.

_This is all my fault as well! _she thought to herself. _If I had the courage a Gryffindor should have had instead of just simply bowing my head and letting Dumbledore tell me what to do, I could have prevented much of this mess from happening. _

Minerva swallowed as the passage from HG Well's novel The War of the Worlds reverberated through her mind. "….vast and cool, and unsympathetic….and drew their plans against us." But now, remembering what Poppy had ominously said and what Dumbledore had just told them, she rephrased that passage from Well's amazing novel about an alien invasion.

"Scorned, the young witch regarded the tournament cooly through one eye…and slowly, and surely, she drew her plans against them for a war they would not believe against the very people who had mocked and maimed her."

XXX

The day of the First Task began when the students of Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and Hogwarts joined each other in the Great Hall where one of the walls had been transformed into a massive mirror which showed the entirety of the task. Also present, near the Head's table was a surprise visitor; Remus Lupin, formerly the DADA professor of Charlotte's third year. Next to him was a massive black dog, and some of the more superstitious students had recoiled at its resemblance to a grim, but other than that, the dog seemed docile.

Unfortunately, Sirius Black was not docile at the moment. He and Remus had only come to Hogwarts on Dumbledore's say-so. They watched the mirror, and they cringed when they spotted the lone form of Charlotte; whereas the other Champions were dressed in robes showcasing their allegiances to their different schools, Charlotte had opted for a well-worn leather jacket, black trousers and battered but comfortable looking running shoes, over a white t-shirt.

The moment he saw his goddaughter, cringing at the sight of the green-tinted sunglasses and the cold expression set in her face underneath those glasses she was wearing, Sirius whined in his dog form, looking at her in sorrow. Remus looked down at him, knowing what he was thinking. Sirius had lost it completely when he had seen the newspaper's front page with Charlotte exposing her empty eye-cavity, throwing a major fit and demolishing the lower ground floor of his hated family home, frightening even his mother's portrait into submission.

_I should never have agreed to go along with Dumbledore's stupid plan! What was I thinking? Oh, that's right, I wasn't thinking. Like always! Lily was right about me, she kept saying to James they should have chosen somebody else to be her godfather. But James insisted, saying that I would surprise her. I guess I have, but only to prove just how much of a moron I am. I spent the best years of Charlotte's life in prison because I was fixated on finding Wormtail, and when it comes down to the time she needs me the most, what do I do? I ignore her, and now this._

Sirius had been haunted when he had received those messages from her, each one worded to be as painful and as spiteful as Charlotte could make them. The girl had certainly inherited her mother's acidic tongue when it came to stupidity, and for making spiteful pointed remarks.

Sirius and Remus had both hoped they could have spoken to her before the task actually begun, but despite turning up as early as they could, they had failed to meet her, and besides Dumbledore had ushered them inside, positive they could speak to her later. Sirius just hoped they could convince Charlotte to give them a second chance, but deep down he knew it was futile, and as he took in the sunglasses which shielded her only remaining eye, he knew it was impossible.

XXX

The First task began with the Champions and their selected chosen helpers taking a portkey to a field deep inside the Forbidden Forest. The moment they arrived, they took in their surroundings. Viktor was standing in his school uniform with a red cloak with the Durmstrang crest on it, with his supporters. Fleur was dressed in a blue jumpsuit with a blue cloak with the crest of Beauxbatons on it, and she stood with her chosen supporters. Likewise, Cedric Diggory stood in his own Hufflepuff uniform with his cloak showing the Hogwarts crest. He stood with his own chosen supporters, but he sent a worried look at the lone figure of Charlotte, but the girl ignored him.

"_**TODAY IS THE FIRST TASK OF THE TRI-WIZARD TOURNAMENT. YOUR TASK TODAY IS TO REACH THE GOLDEN EGG, WITH THE AID OF YOUR SUPPORTERS. YOU HAVE MANY TRAPS TO CONTEND WITH, AND YOU ALSO HAVE YOUR COMPETITORS TO FIGHT OFF SO YOU CAN WIN THE DAY! YOU MAY BEGIN….NOW!"**_

"Wait!" Cedric jumped when Charlotte's magically enhanced voice broke out over the crowd, and everyone turned to face the lone figure, wondering what she was doing.

Cedric was surprised, like everyone else, when Charlotte slipped something out of the pocket of her jacket. She held it up, revealing a coin. Cedric was surprised when Charlotte flipped it and caught it deftly and she glanced at it. When she lifted her gaze slowly, Cedric and everyone else watching, shivered when they saw the evil smile on Charlotte's face and the low rumbling chuckle. The girl flicked out her hand, and her new basilisk wand snapped into place, but Charlotte snapped out her other hand, revealing an identical wand.

"Heads," Charlotte hissed. "Cry Havoc, and let slip the dogs of war!"

With a feral howl like the sound of a jungle cat, Charlotte launched herself at the Champions moving with lightning speed that was definitely magically enhanced. The Champions and their supporters readied themselves to meet her, but they hadn't been expecting Charlotte to move so quickly. One of Viktor's supporters fired a curse at her, but Charlotte sent it back at him and she flicked her wand at one of the unsuspecting supporters who screamed as several of her bones were shattered and her legs and her arms were twisted in painful and unnatural looking angles, and she went down like a sack of potatoes.

"KILL THEM ALL, BABY!" Charlotte cackled like a madwoman as she leapt onto the supporter and using him to propel her through the air, where she fired a number of curses at the Champions and their supporters, who tried to get out of her range. But Charlotte was simply too fast. One of the curses shattered the bones of one of Fleur's supporters, while another curse smashed another in the chest until they dropped to the ground, wheezing from a lack of breath.

As she was in the air, Charlotte swept her wands in the crude shape of a circle, sending a myriad of blasting curses near the ground where other supporters

The moment she landed on the ground again, Charlotte waved her wand, conjuring up a metallic bullwhip, which she threw around, smashing into the supporters. Several of them were hit, but a few behind them, including Fleur and Viktor, raised their wands and fired their own curses at Charlotte. A lucky banishing curse sent one of Charlotte's wands flying out of her grasp into the distance.

Charlotte didn't have time to get the wand back. Instead, she charged at the crowd, wandlessly sending Cedric flying off out of reach of harm's way, but at the same time when Cedric landed, he desperately tried to get back into the fight, but it was hopeless as he could do nothing except watch as the youngest champion advanced on the others. She advanced on the crowd while using her remaining wand to send the curses back at them. Back in Hogwarts, and indeed around the world, the magical mirrors capturing the whole thing showed Charlotte's expression. Her face was cold, hard, and set. She magically caught one of the spells, clenching her fists around it before sending it back at one of her attackers, sending them down.

Charlotte waved her wand. Everyone fighting her suddenly watched in horror as Charlotte magically summoned all of the wands out of their hands and then sent them flying, but she magically banished Fleur and Viktor while she focused on the mixed and terrified supporters. She lifted her wand and she sent four of them flying through the air where they made painful contact with a tree before she made short work of the others.

Charlotte focused on two Hufflepuffs, who were watching her fearfully. "How does it feel to be the victim for a change?" she grinned at them, showing them her dark red lips and neat white shiny teeth. The barring of fangs. "Hopeless, unable to fight… I am never hopeless. And I am going to teach all of you that lesson." She suddenly held out her hand, and the second basilisk wand flew into her hand. Charlotte flicked her wand and brought the two Hufflepuffs down with some nasty bone-breaking curses which left the pair screaming for help and mercy on the ground.

One Hogwarts student, another Hufflepuff who had managed to find a way past the monster on the field to find his wand to find Cedric and to help him fight off against her. He managed to get to the pile of wands half-buried by the grass, he really tried and failed to find his wand among the others, looked around terrified at the sight of his downed friends and gazed in horror at the advancing witch - no, demon, who was wearing that now scary grin on her face. He shivered in terror as she approached him and he held up his hands for mercy. He knew it was a cowardly thing to do, but with the way she was advancing on him, that merciless grin that promised pain on her face, he knew it was the right thing to do.

"No! Wait, please! I give-give," he stammered, but he was too terrified to move or speak clearly.

"Give?" Charlotte had her wands pointed at him, cocking her head intrigued. "Give me what?"

"I-I."

"C'mon, you were going to give me something. Well, give it to me," Charlotte pointed her wand at the Hufflepuff's chest, making him jump up and down with terror. "C'mon!"

The Hufflepuff blubbered, but he was relentlessly cut down by Charlotte's double spell which broke his kneecaps and sent him to the ground screaming in agony.

The interlude had given some of the others time to find their wands and get into the fight. Charlotte swung around, and she silently cast some of the most devastating spells in her repertoire, and she ended up duelling two of the supporters at the same time before sending them down to the ground screaming in agony with multiple compound fractures. The Durmstrang students quickly mobilised and tried to take her down, hoping their more advanced knowledge of dark magic might be the key to shortening the gap. Unfortunately their hopes were in vain as Charlotte used a combination of magically assisted agility and speed coupled with some extremely nasty curses taught to her by Slytherin himself, some of them were parsel magic curses, which made fighting her difficult since they had no idea what she was casting at them. One Durmstrang student went down with his hands crushed to a bloodied pulp. A Beauxbatons student screamed as she suddenly felt herself being lifted off of the ground and her legs and arms were snapped and when she was dropped onto the ground, screaming in pain and begging for help while she resembled a human pretzel.

When she saw the other supporters come rushing towards her, their wands outstretched, Charlotte grimaced. She lifted her wands, but if everyone watching her thought she was just going to use separate curses on them, they were in for a shock when a small, but tightly contained, and very very powerful tornado shot out of Charlotte' s wands. The Tri-wizard helpers tried getting out of the way, but the tornado was spinning around so fast, and yanked them off of the ground and spun the away before sending them flying out of the mini storm. They weren't moving after that as their bones had been badly broken and some of them were showing signs of concussion. The unexpected albeit terrifying sight of the tornado had taken the fight out of some of the others. Unfortunately, Charlotte wasn't finished yet as she went off in one of her Revy-moments. Mercilessly Charlotte threw herself into the fray, using her twin wands to bring down her opponents until all of the supporters were down, leaving Charlotte to deal with Fleur and Viktor.

The moment she saw the two champions regarding her warily and with fear, Charlotte regarded them both cooly which surprised them both since they had expected Charlotte to view them with contempt.

"They're not dead, you know," Charlotte suddenly said in an almost conversational tone. "They're just stunned. They'll be okay….eventually."

"What about the others?" Viktor demanded.

"I didn't think you cared," Charlotte replied in a conversational tone like she and the Champions were friends in a cafe, discussing mundane topics over cups of coffee. "So who is next? Tickle us, do we not laugh? Prick us, do we not bleed? Wrong us, shall we not revenge?"

"Is that why you've done this, for revenge?" Fleur whispered.

Charlotte chuckled. "Of course. I also wanted to teach the entire magical world a lesson; you batter me down too much, there will be consequences. Big ones. Dumbledore never taught his students that lesson. Some of them have now paid the price. Maybe in the future, they will be wiser. Oh, you know what, I've got a better idea."

Before the two Champions could respond, or even defend themselves, Charlotte flicked her wands at them silently. Krum was thrown back several feet before he impacted hard against a tree, while Fleur felt the air freeze around her before she was encased in a block of ice. Charlotte took a few minutes to survey the battlefield before she slowly walked over to where Cedric was lying. She bent down near his paralysed body. "It's okay," she said soothingly. "I'm not going to hurt you. I never did want to hurt you. Had you been one of the bastards who made my life hell recently, I would have given you the same treatment as Viktor and Fleur. But you were so sweet when you apologised for your whole house. Still, I think its best for you to rest now."

Charlotte jabbed her wand into Cedrics' forehead and the Hufflepuff went into a peaceful sleep.

XXX

Meanwhile, in Hogwarts and around the world, everyone watched in stunned silence as the youngest and the most controversial of the Tri-wizard tournament quickly dealt with the Champions and their supporters, using vicious and painful-looking curses to knock them out of the fight.

But in a house in New Zealand a woman with long dark hair was watching her own mirror in shock as the commentator said hesitantly. "**_Erm, and Charlotte Potter, the youngest champion in the history of the Tri-wizard tournament has…defeated her fellow champions and their supporters…."_**

But the woman wasn't listening to anything else the commentator was saying. Instead she was focused on the name of the girl who had thrown herself into the tournament, unable to believe what she was seeing and hearing.

_No, it can't be her….It can't be, _the woman thought desperately. The image on the mirror, as if hearing her mental begging, taunted her by showing a sudden closeup of the girl. The woman gasped. The girl on the screen was years older than the girl the woman herself and her husband remembered but it was definitely Charlotte.

She yelled for her husband.

XXX

Once she was sure he was now asleep, Charlotte picked herself up and she headed over to the treeline, flicking her wand. On one of the trees with a hedge grown around it, a green cat appeared. Charlotte grinned and she reached around the hedge and pulled out a black backpack from the hedge. Charlotte knew this was cheating, but she didn't care. Just like she didn't care about using her second wand. She unzipped the backpack and pulled out a grappling hook and a rope. She knew she could have put in a shrunken broomstick into the bag, but she was a burglar.

She knew she could easily have And she would use her skills to get to the top. As she uncoiled the rope and prepared to use the grappling hook, Charlotte mentally reviewed her plan. She knew what she was about to do went against everything she had planned for herself, but since she wanted to shock the magical world and show them just how far she had gone, it would make them back off slightly.

On the other hand, it might make some of her enemies come up with a different plan…

Charlotte decided that it was the only option, and besides Slytherin and Ravenclaw had approved, although both of them had told her to be careful and to stay alert. She had every intention of doing so. Once she had uncoiled the rope, she held it in one hand and the grappling hook in the other. She slowly started to swing the hook faster and faster before she threw it into the tree. After making sure the rope was secure, Charlotte started climbing. She'd had the grappling hook for a few years now. And she had been trained how to use it thanks to a burglar who specialised in high-tech heists. The burglar was a former Royal Marine and had all the right skills to teach her what she needed. As she scaled the tree, she quickly swung herself around, straightening her sunglasses and adjusting her jacket. Charlotte took a deep breath. "Once more unto the breach, dear friends," she smirked. "Dobby. Dance time."

The House-elf, hearing his mistress' command instantly started playing the music track. Charlotte had no idea how the muggle music was going to go down with the magical world audience, but the more they were shaken by her actions, the better.

"If I can't dance," the sound of Sophie Ellis-Bextor's song which was played for the St. Trinians movie blared around the world while Charlotte concentrated on her magic, bobbing her head to the beat. "If I can't dance…Oh, baby, if I can't dance…If I can't dance…If I can't dance.."

Charlotte opened her bag again and pulled out her shrunken broomstick. She enlarged it and she slid onto it before she took off, smirking when she heard the next verse, "Then I don't want any part of your revolution...A new dawn waits for us tonight."

She smirked. She loved that line.

XXX

"She's so much like you." The woman said, amused slightly that Charlotte was playing muggle music for the entire magical world. She was clearly mocking them.

"I don't know about that," he responded to his wife's remark while the commentator went on, describing the _Girl Who Lived's_ latest moves. "Hold on, Girl Who Lived, what the hell does that mean?"

"I don't know. But I've got a question of my own. Why is she wearing those sunglasses?"

XXX

As she flew above the trees waiting for the song's next verse, Charlotte wondered how everyone was taking her latest stunt.

Unknown to everyone barring Winky and Dobby and the Founders, Charlotte had spiked Ludo Bagman's drink with truth serum and she had questioned him vigorously to discover what the First Task entailed. There was no chance she was going to go out on her own, and besides since Bagman seemed to be the most easiest of the organisers to deal with, she had chosen him.

Bagman had proven to be a treasure trove of knowledge. But one thing was clear; it would have taken the Champions forever to get through the traps on the ground, even with their levels. And in Charlottes' case, while she could do it with the help of the Founders, who were on a completely different level in terms of magical experience, it would have taken longer still. Oh, she could have gotten through it, of course. But it would have taken too much time, even with the help of the Founders.

She couldn't have used Dobby or Winky either. While she didn't hesitate to use the House-elves willingness to help her, she didn't want to use them for something like this. The Tournament was being broadcasted across the entire world, to every witch and wizard everywhere. Many of them were probably not as stupid and insular as the people in this fucked up branch. They would recognise House elf magic anywhere. In any case, she wanted to do this for herself.

Charlotte had considered her animagus form. With the inner cat really small and light on its feet, it would have been simplicity in itself for Charlotte to simply transform into her animagus form, and slink above the trees towards the egg. Indeed she had even asked Bagman if the traps extended above the trunks of the trees. They weren't.

But she had quickly decided against it.

Her animagus form was one of her most prized abilities. She was proud of her ability to transform into a cat, and she had learnt how to use it during her crimes since her cat form gave her a sense of liberty she never had as a human. But she had decided against it. Not only would the revelation make Dumbledore and other undesirable elements in the magical world realise her powers, but it would definitely compromise her in the future.

Charlotte knew had the magical world known beforehand about his ability, Sirius would have never been able to escape from Azkaban. She knew if she was ever arrested for anything, and the Aurors knew beforehand she was an animagus, she could kiss goodbye an opportunity for escape. She had heard there were ways of dampening down the animal of the animagus, and it was supposed to be one of the most unpleasant things anyone could experience.

In the end, she had decided to use her flying skills. Charlotte had deliberately played the misdirection game by using the grappling hook before she unveiled the broomstick, making everyone think she was going to be using the trees to get to the ultimate prize in this stupid task.

The Golden Egg.

Hah, fat chance.

"If you play the cards, you're holding right"

Charlotte checked the piece of parchment she'd had Dobby prepare for her. It was just a scrawled compass on a piece of parchment. However, the parchment was enhanced by elfin magic, and as she travelled onwards on her trusty Cleansweep broomstick, the lines shortened until they were gone, leaving behind a dot.

It had taken Dobby several tries before he had gotten it right. The first time he had provided her with an actual map that looked so outlandish even James Cook would have had his brain dribble out of his ears, but the next one and the next one after the second map, Dobby had given her other maps. Finally, after the fifth attempt, Charlotte had patiently sat him down and showed him an axis to use as a blueprint and told him to enchant the next piece of parchment so as she got closer and closer to the prize, the lines would shorten until they became nothing more than a dot.

Dobby was upset about not getting it right the first time around, but thanks to her standing orders that both House-elves were not allowed to bash their brains in, Dobby was still standing upright.

"I swear I'll keep in party line"

Charlotte swopped through the trees after quickly finding a decent gap in the canopy. Once she was in, she calmly and mentally pulled the broomsticks' speed back a bit since she would be flying through the forest canopy where there would be dozens of branches everywhere, and she hadn't come this far only to be hit by a branch because she wasn't looking.

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

Finding the Golden Egg wasn't difficult. It was standing upright on a pedestal, gleaming as the sun's rays hit it, and circling around and guarding the egg, Charlotte saw the wraiths Bagman had described. Unlike other wraiths, which were more powerful and intelligent, these wraiths didn't even deserve their name; they were just conjurations which would last for a specific amount of time.

But they were dangerous regardless, and they had been created to attack the Champion who came across them, to give them a challenge.

"If I lose myself to rhythm."

The wraiths were ignoring the song verses, Charlotte had noticed and as she flew around the site on her broom, she thought of the plan she and the Founders had come up with. The Wraiths were only focused on anything moving on the ground, so they wouldn't notice if she came at them from the sky.

"Doesn't mean I lose control."

Charlotte tuned out the song as it repeated itself; she'd repeated and replayed it so many times before that she just tuned it out of her mind; she needed to focus for this bit. She looked around for a large and decently thick tree branch which she knew would take the fullness of her weight. She smirked when she spotted one just a little ways above, and she gently flew higher until she gracefully stepped onto it.

After applying a low-level sticking charm onto her broom to moor it to the tree, Charlotte unpacked her backpack and pulled out her winch and her harness. She smiled as she examined them. It had taken her a few days to get hold of them using her burglary contacts. Contrary to popular belief, many burglars didn't bother stealing things from museums or bother with the sort of stunts played out in movies by actors like George Clooney. No. Most burglars preferred the incognito approach.

As she set up the winch and the rope which would lower her down from the tree branch, she took a moment to think about her actions with the rest of the champions. She didn't regret what she'd done.

Charlotte had considered hypnotising the rest of the Champions into fighting one another, but she'd decided against it in the long run. She had no doubt someone out there would probably try to get her locked up for something like that, deciding it was better if she just fought them all to a standstill. In any case, just because she was a burglar, didn't mean she wasn't an experienced robber who used violence to get what she wanted. More than once, she had been forced to use violence against anyone who got to her. She pushed those thoughts to one side before she lowered herself from the tree, barely having enough time to remember her little parting gift for the wraiths below, and she angled herself downwards and slowly went down.

As she got lower and lower, Charlotte felt the air begin to chill. She took a deep breath and fought the urge to recoil as the air became increasingly chilly. The Tri-wizard organisers had decided to create a wraith that featured some of the characteristics of a Dementor, but whereas the exposure to the filthy demons would have been experienced even as high up as Charlotte had been in the treetop, the wraiths were considerably weaker. Charlotte hadn't bothered to ask Bagman just _what in the name of God _had possessed the organisers into doing something like that, afraid she would be given a bullshit reason, as always. But personally she thought they had wanted to spice things up a bit, make the Champions believe they were dealing with real Dementors.

Charlotte pushed that out of her mind as her hand went to the winch control in her belt, and with deft practice, she managed to slow down her descent until she stopped until she had the egg in her line of sight upside down. Charlotte quickly looked around, laughing up a storm inside her skull as she saw the wraiths circling the egg, still looking outwards. They hadn't noticed her yet, so so far, so good. But Charlotte knew the idiots who'd organised this stupid contest would have made them alert if she made an odd sound. She pulled out her parting gift, wrapped in a small black bag. She quickly got it out while she took hold of her prize, the Golden Egg. She turned on the winch, setting it to take her back up into the treetop.

The Wraiths didn't notice a thing.

That changed as soon as they heard a sound from the pedestal. As one they saw what it was. Waving mockingly at them was a black and white Maneki-Neko figurine.

In the treetops, Charlotte was shaking with laughter as she took in the scene, how the wraiths were sweeping about looking for the one who took the Egg while she prepared to leave. She'd packed up the winch as quickly as she could while slipping the Egg into the bag. A sudden shriek from one of the wraiths below made her winch as the sound went right through her mind. She lifted her wands and two massive patroni burst out of her wand tips.

Charlotte grinned smugly when she heard the panicked shrieks of the wraiths below when the Patronus she had just conjured up attacked them. "That'll teach you," she gloated.

Charlotte waved a wand in the direction of the broomstick, and it came unstuck and flew over towards her. She got onto the broom and headed back for the field she had just left. When she arrived she saw that the bodies of her competitors were still lying prone on the ground. She took out her prize and held it up gloatingly, certain some of the Champions and their helpers had woken up by now.

"**CHARLOTTE POTTER HAS WON THE FIRST TASK!" **

XXX

In Hogwarts, the way Charlotte dealt with the other Champions had taken them all by surprise. They were all speechless as they took in the way she had not only slipped in a second wand into the tournament, but she had used powerful magic in overcoming the other Champions. Many of the younger members of the audience both in Hogwarts and in other parts of the world had screamed, soiling themselves when they had seen just how callous and vicious Charlotte was.

The sheer brutality of it… It just stunned them all.

One thing was clear.

Charlotte had won.

The short, scrawny looking girl…had won the First Task. She had triumphed, but at the same time she had shown that she was a Potter, and like all of her ancestors she had proven she was incredibly powerful. And cunning. She had seen the Golden Egg as the ultimate goal in the Task, and she had gone for it.

XXX

Dumbledore felt sick. Flitwick and Pomfrey, and to a lesser extent Minerva, had both told him time and time again this whole mess would end up blowing up in his face. They were right. He had done it again. He had pushed the girl time and time again, and now he felt he had just created another Lord Voldemort through his inactions and his poor choices. Seeing the way she had thrown herself into the fights in the first part of the Task had shocked and frightened him, and he wondered if Charlotte had become as twisted as Bellatrix.

The thought he had once more destroyed a child's life, especially someone lost in the world like Charlotte, for the sake of his plans…it made him want to cry, but all he could do was wheeze with breath as he found himself completely at a loss.

_No, I won't let it happen! I will help her through this, and she will forgive us all! _Dumbledore decided. _If it is the last thing I do…_

XXX

_Oh, my god! I…I pushed my best friend away! _Hermione Granger thought to herself, feeling tears rolling down her face as she felt terrified by what she had seen Charlotte do, but amazed by her cunning and the way she got around the rest of the Task by using that broomstick. The way she had smiled that sadistic, cruel, cold smile on her face as she had gone for the other Champions and their helpers…Hermione knew the sight would haunt her forever.

But at the same time she knew that although she had thought to herself in horror she had pushed her friend away, and Hermione genuinely believed Charlotte and she were friends, Hermione knew she hadn't been a good friend at all since she had essentially spied on Charlotte for Dumbledore. The elderly headmaster had always wowed Hermione with his power, his authority and his reputation, but now Hermione could see with total clarity that although the old wizard might have phrased it differently, he had made Hermione spy on Charlotte. That was wrong, but the worst thing was she had actually gone through with it, not only for rare tomes on magical knowledge otherwise other kids wouldn't have access to, but also because she had believed Charlotte would get herself into trouble.

Hermione knew in her heart the other girl was never going to forgive her. More than once Hermione had been scared out of her wits whenever the dark side she had seen in Charlotte rearing its head, and it gave credence to Dumbledore's warnings about her, that Charlotte must never give in to the dark side. _But what did I do? Of course, she wouldn't have wanted anything to do with the tournament, but now thanks to that skank Bones, Charlotte has snapped. _

Charlotte had been pushed and prodded too much, too far. This was the result. Hermione felt fresh tears slide down her face when she realised Charlotte was never going to forgive them.

XXX

_They….that could have been me, _Draco Malfoy thought to himself again in shock as Potter landed on the ground among the badly injured and shaken Champions and their helpers.

Draco had been watching the First Task eagerly, hoping to see his long-time adversary injured or even worse, only for her to terrify him with her actions. In fact, he had focused more on them than anything else, seeing the vicious ways Charlotte had fought against her opponents, breaking their bones and letting their screams echo in his head again and again.

When Draco saw Charlotte go for the Egg on that broomstick, overcoming the traps the Tri-wizard tournament had set up - he had wondered what they were, but since no-one triggered them, it made no difference now - and then grabbing hold of the Egg while that muggle song was playing, he realised she had outthought the whole task. Not only was she mocking it, but she had also destroyed it with a Slytherin mindset Draco knew he could never use himself.

There was no doubt in Draco's mind anymore. For a long time, he had known Charlotte Potter was more powerful and dangerous compared to himself, but seeing this showed him she was on a level far above his own, and what scared him the most, what terrified him the most, was that if he had been chosen, as he had hoped, to help, Charlotte Potter would have murdered him.

_I never want to face her ever again, _Malfoy thought to himself, determined to use this whole mess to make sure he never went for Potter again.

XXX

Minerva McGonagall felt as ill as Albus did, only she had turned away, horrified as she couldn't watch as Lily and James' adorable baby girl becoming this cold, sadistic monster who'd gone for everyone and anything in her path. She was trying hard not to picture what Lily and James, who had been her favourite students, would do when it was her time to die. Not only had she allowed Dumbledore to drop Charlotte on that doorstep all those years before, but she had also allowed the old fool to manipulate Charlotte's life, and this was the result.

XXX

George and Fred Weasley were both horrified by what they had seen during the task. Both of them were more convinced they would have the moment where Charlotte had launched herself at the other Champions etched into their nightmares for a while, especially since she hadn't held back. The Weasley twins had been among those who looked for Charlotte in order to prank her heavily for getting into the Tournament, but now they were more than happy that they hadn't found her. Charlotte had had no qualms about badly injuring older witches and wizards, she was unlikely to care about them. Unlike their siblings and several other people except for Hermione and a few others, the twins were able to see for themselves Charlotte was angry.

And she had only just gotten started.

XXX

_Why does everyone scared? _Ron asked himself, looking up and down his House table. _Charlotte's brought honour to the House, and when I tell her she can come back, great, then everything will go back to normal. And then, Charlotte, you will be my wife!_

XXX

_WHY? WHY DID I LET DUMBLEDORE TALK ME INTO ABANDONING HER, THEN SHE WOULD NEVER DO THIS!_ Sirius whined a little bit, making Remus look down at him in worry. The werewolf knew what he was thinking, so he nudged the dog-form animagus, and when Sirius looked up at him, Remus shook his head warningly. But Sirius could see the fear, the upset in Remus' eyes. Charlotte was furious and she had every right and every reason to be furious. Sirius took another look at the mirror. It looked like Charlotte was looking straight at them. She took off her sunglasses, exposing her one remaining eye.

XXX

Charlotte knew the whole wizarding world was watching her, but she wasn't concerned about that. She had a point to make. She slipped off her sunglasses, determined to make a point. She lifted her wand. "I, Charlotte Lillian Potter, do hereby swear on my magic I didn't enter the Tri-wizard tournament, nor did I ask anyone to do it for me. So mote it be!"

Charlotte's body glowed as her magic accepted the oath, and she casted a low-level lighting spell. "I still have my magic, therefore I didn't enter the tournament," she said, toying with not bothering saying she had thought about making this oath before. "I was entered against my will, but let me tell you something else; what you have seen here…its just the beginning."

She stopped her speech and walked off, sliding her sunglasses back into place, where she mentally whispered for Dobby to whisk her home.

XXX

"My god!" the woman gasped, looking at the mirror, unable to get the image of the girl slipping off those sunglasses off, revealing only one emerald green eye. "Wha-what happened to _your eye?!"_

"...we've got to get to her," her husband said, gazing aghast at the screen through his round glasses.

"You're right...," the woman said before she shook her head in horror. "How did she end up in this dangerous mess in the first place?"

"I don't know...," the man answered. "What I want to know is why the guardian put in place did nothing."

"I told you that idiot was a poor choice."

The man sighed. "You're right,...," he said her name.

XXX

Remus had been taken aback by what he had seen Charlotte do. He had known for a year and a bit now she was a powerful witch, and one that was definitely Lily's daughter. Lily had always caused havoc when she was annoyed, and her daughter had definitely inherited that trait from her mother. But now…seeing Charlotte's only remaining eye glaring at them coldly had sent a chill down his spine. Remus had felt misgivings when Dumbledore had outlined his plan, but now the werewolf was regretting going through with it. There were many things he and Sirius needed to make up for, but the werewolf was uncertain if Charlotte would ever forgive them.

XXX

Charlotte flopped onto her bed, exhausted after spending twenty minutes getting ready. When her head hit the pillow, she fell asleep.


	8. Chapter 8 The Rant at Sirius Black

Happy Christmas.

I'd hoped to get a good upload for Christmas as a present for all of you out there who like my stories. I barely made it, but I hope you enjoy what I've written for you.

Not for Sirius fans, this chapter. Also, a big Happy Christmas for Kourtney Uzu Yato - without them, I'd never have been inspired to write this into a planned storyline and made it work, blowing a fire into an inferno.

Please let me know what you think.

* * *

The Hell of Fourth Year.

Now the First Task was over with, Charlotte had earned a few days to herself. She had relayed to the Founders that she didn't want to spend all of her time training, and worrying about the Tournament, and while the Founders hadn't liked it they understood her reasonings. Personally, Charlotte didn't really care; she had been planning on this for some time ever since the day she had stumbled across the Founders.

Anyway, in the meantime, she had the House-elves to spy on the organisers of the Tri-wizard tournament to discover the ins and the outs of the Second Task. They already had a few leads, thanks to Bagman, but they didn't know which option the organisers were going to use although they had the same theme. The Champions would have to rescue something or someone important.

Charlotte had little doubt in her mind Dumbledore would use the opportunity to try to make her forgive and forget someone who had betrayed her when her name had been drawn out of the Goblet of Fire, but her rational mind had made certain she decided to wait and see although her irrational side had immediately refused. She knew Dumbledore would try to plant Ron Weasley in the middle of the Tournament, even after she had told him after he had nearly tried to kill Nightstar.

But Dumbledore never listened to anyone. Even with his whole world falling down around him, the old fool still lived with his head in the clouds. Living in a parallel universe where everyone forgave everyone, even if someone murdered the children of somebody else. Dumbledore had probably heard what she had said to him during the Wand Weighing ceremony about what she would have done to the Weasley family if Nightstar had died, but he had probably discounted it, believing in his flawed philosophy again.

Charlotte grabbed one of her wands and she headed over to the wardrobe in her room, and she pulled out a pair of shorts, donned her old socks and shirt, and pulled on a jogging jacket. Slipping her wand into the holster only another witch or wizard could see, and grabbing her stopwatch and slipped on her green-tinted sunglasses, Charlotte went downstairs and opened the doors and locked them tightly so she could begin her jog. She wasn't really worried about a muggle getting inside since there were wards to prevent that happening, but old habits died hard and besides, she felt reassured with this basic type of security.

Charlotte had chosen her home very carefully. She had wanted to live in a more or less isolated location which would make hiding her magical identity even easier, but she had also wanted to live close to a town where she would have access to a supermarket and other shops, as well as access to the railway network of the country. The trains in this part of the world had a train leaving for London every hour, and there were other trains heading to other parts of the country, so she wasn't completely isolated.

But the second pro to living here was the fact she had miles of private roads and dirt tracks, some of them leading into the town which was over a mile away from the windmill, and there were other roads and back alleys near it.

As Charlotte finished her warmup exercises, she began slowly jogging away from the windmill and she began the five-mile jog around the area she started to think about what she was going to do, going over her immediate plans. She was going to spend the next few days committing burglaries, and keep her skills sharp even with the loss of her eye.

"Morning," she waved politely to a dog walker who was walking his dog.

The older man smiled at her as she approached closer. "Cor, I wish I was as fit as you," he said admiringly, his eyes roving up and down Charlottes' petite frame, focusing more on her chest than anywhere else. "Well done," he said quickly before she noticed, although he didn't know Charlotte had already picked up on it.

Charlotte just smiled and went on, inwardly annoyed by how the man had stared at her. She had been tempted to curse him, but that would have left marks.

The jog did her good, she enjoyed feeling the fresh air on her although the loss of her eye and the necessity of the sunglasses which magically compensated for the loss of half of her vision had its ups and downs.

Charlotte pushed those thoughts aside as she came through the woods near her home and the town, and she focused on her animagus form's far more flexible skeleton and agility. With a grin, Charlotte leapt into the air and she grabbed a low hanging tree branch and wrapped the back of her legs around it tightly in the same way as a python constrictor around its prey, and she let her body flop upside down. The blood began rushing to her brain and for a second Charlotte continued to hang like that before she placed her fingers gently to her temples and she began performing stomach and ab crunches while he kept her mind opened up to her animagus' more flexible skeleton. It might be cheating, but she didn't care.

As she heaved herself up slowly for her twelfth crunch, Charlotte gasped a little bit as the pain washed through her abdomen, but she kept doing them. While she worked, Charlotte thought a little bit about the upcoming task.

She had no intention of doing anything until both Dobby and Winky came back with some information. In the meantime, when she wasn't committing acts of burglary on top of finally selling all of the fake Mona Lisa's she had forged for those private collectors who would fill her bank accounts with a lot of cash, Charlotte decided to continue training with the Founders.

Charlotte finally unhooked herself from the tree after she had performed over fifty crunches. Still relying on her animagus form's flexible spine, Charlotte reached up and grabbed the branch and pulled herself upwards until she was walking on top of the branch itself. She hugged the trunk and jumped down after running a basic scanning charm around to make sure there wasn't anyone watching.

Shit!

There was someone there, watching her open-mouthed.

Seeing no other way around it, Charlotte jumped off of the tree and twisted her spine in the air to right herself as she landed on all fours, like the cat she often became.

Her jump down had startled her observer, who jumped in shock when he saw her land.

"How did you get up there, and how come you haven't done yourself in?" he asked.

Charlotte actually paused to give the question thought. "Because I am good," she said.

She waved her wand at him, erasing the last few minutes of his memory

The jog took Charlotte a good two hours, and by the end of it, she was doubled over breathing hard. Charlotte cursed herself, she had been spending so little time doing her basic physical exercises recently but she was definitely going to rectify that. Charlotte stood upright again and she began the jog back home.

After getting back to the windmill and getting into the shower, Charlotte sighed with relief as she washed under the hot water and rubbed the shower gel into her flesh before she washed her hair. After washing the soap out, she added in the conditioner and let it lather for a bit before she washed that out as well. Once she had wrapped her head in a towel, Charlotte waved her wand and dried herself before she put on a shirt and trousers on, and she went downstairs for breakfast.

Charlotte had just sat down when Dobby appeared with the morning edition of the Daily Prophet, a few letters, and a parcel. "Morning, Missy Char," the elf squeaked. "How's your jog?"

"It was lovely, thank you Dobby," Charlotte smiled, not saying a word about her encounter with the man she had encountered. "Do you know anything about who sent those letters?"

"No, Miss," Dobby shook his head, making his large, bat-like ears shake. "Nor does Dobby know anything 'bout the parcel, except there be no curses on it."

Charlotte was reassured by that, and at the same time, she had to guess Dobby was including the letters in with the statement. The House elf laid the mail down in front of her. "Dobby and Winky now be investigating the second task."

"Okay, Dobby," Charlotte said, looking at the House elf fondly. "But you two be careful."

"Dobby will." With that, the House elf vanished.

Charlotte checked the Prophet first. Unsurprisingly the news was centred on her performance in the task more than anything else. Charlotte shook her head as the phrases "_dark witch" "dark magic" "clearly dabbling in the dark arts" _jumped out at her. She was actually kind of amused by the comments, and while she was a bit irritated by the calls for her arrest for what she'd done, calls made by people who didn't realise in the tournament the Champions could not be punished for their use of magic unless they had actually killed the other Champions, but Charlotte had not done that, there was nothing they could do.

There were even protests about her cheating because she'd hidden her second wand, but cheating was part and parcel of the whole shebang, and unless someone brave or stupid came along to try to confiscate her second wand, which would never happen since she would send them back in a million blood-covered pieces, Charlotte wasn't going to worry.

But what did annoy Charlotte the most were the comments Rita Skeeter had thrown into the article about her and Cedric Diggory having a sexual tryst, using dark magic to ensnare him.

Charlotte ground her teeth together. While she was attracted to Cedric, not just because he was gorgeous, she didn't like the thought people would suspect the main reason why she liked him was that she was manipulating his mind. Charlotte stood up and walked over to the drawer and she pulled out two sheets of paper and two envelopes.

She spent the next ten minutes writing two letters, one for Gringotts, the other for the Daily Prophet. Once she had finished writing the letters, she placed the Gringotts one in the Goblin message box first. The letter would be sent to her accounts manager who was in charge of the Potter family estate among others. The goblin would then make the arrangements, and send off a very very nasty wakeup call the Daily Prophet would not forget anytime soon.

She placed the letter she'd prepared for the Prophet near the message box. She would send it to the paper in a couple of hours once she had received the notification from the bank her orders had been obeyed.

Once she was finished with that she took a look at her other mail.

One of the letters was from Dumbledore. Charlotte sneered as she read the letter, but she also took a good look at the yellow coloured piece of parchment which had been delivered with it. The goblin message box screened out charms and curses all the time and they always recorded them for the recipient so then they would not trust the sender ever.

Sure, the goblins could have simply disposed of the letters, but that wasn't their function. All they did was let their clients who owned the box know who to trust.

She was unsurprised by the spells Dumbledore had placed on the letter since he had used them before but he never learnt from the experiences. What would it take for Dumbledore to accept the fact he couldn't track her down?

The letter basically asked her to come and meet him, so they could discuss matters that - surprise, surprise, Dumbledore had not seen fit to include in the letter itself, but Charlotte could read between the lines. She knew Dumbledore wanted to get into her good books, but he was too late.

Charlotte dropped the half-read letter on the table and waved her wand at it and she vanished it before she picked up the second one, this time reading the card on the back. This time the card was purple. Charlotte instantly dropped the letter and decided against reading it. The goblin message boxes had a colour coded series of threats beginning with green and ending with purple which indicated really dangerous curses, or hazardous magical substances; while Dumbledore had questionable motives, he never placed harmful curses in the letters.

The third letter was much the same, but she shuddered when she took a look at the name of the senders and nodded while she stood up and picked up another piece of paper and she added their names to the list of people she needed to get even with. One of the letters contained a nasty curse which caused sterility, and if she had opened it she would never have children.

The thought alone made her want nothing more than to kill them since she had wanted to have kids since she had been a child, and had no-one to love her, so she had decided if no-one loved her, it wouldn't stop her giving love to someone else.

The next letter had a card which was uncontaminated by spells or potions, which was suspicious in itself. Charlotte sat up straight when she saw the seal of the Ministry of Magic. She opened it and read it. The letter was from Amelia Bones, the aunt of Susan Bones, and the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Surprised it had taken the woman this long to get in touch with her although she guessed Bones had been trying to straighten out the mess Susan had caused.

Charlotte was in two minds about opening the letter, given her anger towards the Bones family for what had happened to her eye, but she decided to see what the woman had to say to her.

"_To Miss Charlotte Potter, _

_I am sorry to be sending you this letter to you at this late date, but I and other members of the family alliance of which the Potters are a part of need to discuss several matters. There are matters which are too numerous to be disclosed in a single letter, and so I would like to invite you to a meeting before this Christmas. _

_I hope you do decide to come - the Potters have been an important part of the alliance for generations._

_Please send a confirmation by return post, but on a personal note; I am truly sorry for what Susan did to injure you. If I can offer you any compensation, then I will."_

"Short and sweet, I never thought I would live to see the day when a witch or a wizard would use their common sense and keep it straightforward," Charlotte murmured to herself as she read the letter again. Amelia Bones seemed different compared to others; instead of foisting the blame off on others like others, she was willing to accept responsibility, but the cynical part of Charlottes' mind wondered if she was getting those words out in print because Bones didn't want her to be angry.

Either way…Charlotte was tempted to go.

She had a lot of questions she needed to ask the Alliance members. When she had discovered it and her family's part of it, she had wondered why nobody had come to her before especially Neville Longbottom. The nervous and shy boy had known her for a long time, they had worked together, and they chatted together, and yet Neville had never mentioned the ties between them. She wanted an explanation. With that in mind, Charlotte prepared another letter, and she sent it off via the message box. She had basically written that she would be happy to attend, but it would be held at the windmill, under her own terms and if the woman and her associates did not like it, then she would publicly withdraw from the Alliance. Charlotte knew they wouldn't like that, but she didn't care. If they wanted to keep it, then they would need to follow it on her terms. She wasn't going to follow their terms - in the magical world, they would hold the cards, at the windmill, it would be a totally different story. Sure, she would need to be careful about how she organised it, but she knew she would get there.

Next came the parcel. She checked the card, and she was surprised when she saw the card was blue. This parcel contained an enchanted mirror that was used for messaging, and when she saw the sender her first instinct was to send it back in pieces.

It had been sent by Sirius Black.

Charlotte had not received any word from the man, not since what had happened to her eye, and while she was curious about what was making him suddenly get in touch with her now, she wasn't going to forget their betrayal. With that in mind, she wanted to get answers but while it was clear Sirius wanted to get in touch with her, he might not answer her questions. After giving it some thought Charlotte decided she didn't care if her former godfather liked what she was going to say or not, especially since much of it would be verbal abuse.

She sighed and opened the parcel, revealing a mirror with an ornate silver-gold border. There was a slip of parchment inside the package. She picked it up with a manicured hand and read the words, "Say,** Sirius Black."**

Charlotte sighed. "Sirius Black."

The image on the mirror showing her reflection altered and shifted and finally Sirius appeared in the mirror. The moment he saw her, his expression brightened a little but it faltered when he took in her icy expression underneath her sunglasses. Charlotte took a second to study him. Sirius looked rougher, more haggard, even more since he'd escaped Azkaban and they met for the first time in years since they'd last met when she'd been a baby.

She spoke over Sirius before the older wizard could even get a word out. "I want to know why," she said with all the warmth of a sword sharpened with a whetstone dunked in the icy waters of Antarctica. "Why did you ignore my messages, and you had better make the explanation _phenomenally _good, because if it isn't, then I am going to find you, and I will skin you alive and send your remains to the DMLE. I don't care at this point."

Sirius looked startled by the threat and he needed a few minutes to get his composure back on track. "I…we saw your performance yesterday," he began.

Charlotte waved a hand impatiently and cut him off with a cat-like snarl, suddenly angry with the older man. "If you're going to bore me with saying that I'm turning dark and I'm no goddaughter of yours…do not waste your breath. What I did was for my own survival. That is what I care about, my survival. That is the end of it. Amen. I don't care about your pathetic philosophies, Sirius. Now get on with it, tell me why you broke my fragile trust in you."

Sirius winced, although she wondered whether it was because she'd had a go or if it was because she had said she didn't trust him anymore. Either way, she didn't care.

"Please don't say that Charlotte," he begged, tears coming into his eyes which Charlotte noticed for the first time were red-rimmed but her sympathy was nonexistent. "I didn't want to just leave you to the mercy of the Tournament."

"Then why did you?" The icy tone in her voice disappeared and Charlotte leaned forward curiously.

Sirius sighed. "It was Dumbledore. He called me and Remus. Said he had some big plan to help you with the Tournament but it wouldn't work if we kept in touch with you."

"That's it, and you believed him?" Charlotte asked scornfully although privately she felt the excuse was too pat and there had to be more to it than that, and she wondered if Dumbledore had tampered with the marauders' minds. "The old son of a whore didn't help at all; he just let me take abuse every day. If it wasn't for where I live, I'd be stuck at that dump! And you believed him, you spineless, gutless waste of space!? You abandon your own goddaughter, knowing the reputation of the Tri-wizard tournament. Sirius, people have _died _because of this thing, and yet you don't think I might need help? Me, a fourteen-year-old girl who just wants to be left alone without dark lords and self-important idiots meddling in her life? You know how dangerous the tasks are, and yet you don't seem to care. What were you thinking? Oh wait, you weren't thinking. It's the story of your life, isn't it? After all, your desire for revenge got us both locked up - you with the Dementors and me with a bunch of muggles. You didn't think then, and you made the same mistake again! How stupid are you?!"

Sirius winced. "It was hard for us to ignore those messages-."

"Oh, yes," Charlotte laughed scornfully. "That's right, care only for yourself. It didn't occur to you to say no to Dumbledore, did it? If the old bastard tells you to jump, then you ask him how far down, right? You are pathetic."

Sirius recoiled at the shout but Charlotte was only just getting warmed up.

"Which message hurt the most? The fact I reminded you of how much you fucked up with my childhood? The fact your wonderful prank which involved Pettigrew taking your place at Dumbledore's insistence since everyone would suspect you blew up in your fucking face? That Dumbledore didn't help you, only for you to do what he says."

"That's not fair," Sirius snapped, getting angry. "I care about you, I always have-."

"Since when?" Charlotte asked mildly, thankful that at last, they were reaching a part she wanted to get to.

The question knocked Sirius off balance. "What?" the wizard asked, aghast she would even ask that. "Charlotte, I came out of Azkaban to protect you-."

"No, you only came out because you saw _Wormtail _in a photograph," Charlotte's voice was so bitter Sirius knew nothing would sweeten it. "Once you saw him, you escaped by using your animagus form. The point is you didn't give a _thought _about me, who should have been at the _**top **_of your list of priorities. Face it, Sirius - you could have broken out anytime you chose. You had an animagus form and had the advantage of knowing Dementors couldn't affect animals. You didn't use it. You could have changed into a dog, waited for them to open your cell, and slipped out before swimming to the mainland. If I had an animagus form," Charlotte smiled inwardly ironically, "then that's what I would do if I'd been accused of a crime I didn't commit. You, you just waited in prison for a decade! You didn't give a thought about me. Even when you caught Wormtail, you planned on killing him instead of taking him into custody so then you could be free. You are so shortsighted, it's incredible. Why, and don't fuck me around anymore by yakking on about the Dementor's effects?"

Sirius was stunned by the coldly spoken, bitter rant.

"What? You haven't got an excuse this time? You're not going to claim it as one of your pointless and stupid pranks, are ya?" Charlotte asked sarcastically.

Sirius recovered quickly. "My pranks aren't stupid-!"

"And I notice you care for your pranks, proving my point." Charlotte's face became dark and expressionless. "My parents died thinking they were safe, but the all the time you were laughing you had pranked the Death Eaters. Were you still laughing when you realised you'd made a huge mistake? The problem with so many people is you never learn from your mistakes. Want to see another of your stupid decisions?"

She slipped off her sunglasses and exposed her empty eye cavity. Sirius recoiled at seeing the empty hole so close, making Charlotte smile in satisfaction. She felt no sympathy in return. "My dad is dead, but it's amazing to know without him, the once incredible marauders are nothing more than a pack of liars and fools. I see no more reason to speak to you, Sirius. Goodbye."

With that, she waved her wand and vanished the mirror. As it faded, freezing Sirius' horrified expression.

Charlotte sighed. A part of her was annoyed by herself for lashing out like that because she had wanted to interrogate Sirius for a little bit longer, but she was so angry with the man for caring only about his own pleasures and not accepting responsibility like an adult. Anyway, the deed was done.

Still, she wasn't going to worry about that now. She was going to deal with those Mona Lisa copies, and she was going to commit some burglaries before she focused once more on the Tournament.


	9. Chapter 9 Plunder, Shootout, and Escape

Happy New Year.

I hope you've had a good Christmas, and let's hope this new year, 2020, is much better than the last, mm?

Warning - a scene of sex up ahead. Also, there's a scene inspired by _Who Framed Roger Rabbit? _ahead.

I don't Harry Potter.

* * *

The Hell of Fourth Year.

Charlotte smirked, or at least she performed the cat-version of a smirk, as she approached the muggle neighbourhood. The neighbourhood was one of the more affluent ones in London, and Charlotte was hoping the pickings would be really good. She padded gently through the streets, ignoring the muggles as they did their daily business although she did let a few muggles touch her. Some of them who did stroke her did it too roughly, making her hiss at them since their strokes had made her uncomfortable.

As with the magical world, the muggle world was horrified when they saw that she only had one eye. More than once Charlotte had heard someone comment on it but thanks to her cat form she didn't have to answer them back, although that would definitely break the Statute of Secrecy. After one muggle woman had patted her gently and stroked her back gently all the way down to the tip of her tail, she had heard the woman say something about her eye; ever since she'd arrived in this neighbourhood, she had heard so many comments and questions about her eye, and what could have happened to a beautiful cat like her, even if she was not a true cat, to make her lose her eye.

Charlotte had groaned mentally each and every time it had happened; it was bad enough the most recent articles printed in the Daily Prophet (a sadistic part of her couldn't wait to read the letter she was going to get back and what she had ordered to be sent to her from the stupid editor himself of that equally stupid paper, but truthfully Charlotte was in two minds about what she would do in the long term, but she was going to make the Prophet regret their decisions to print those juicy articles about her) couldn't seem to stop speaking about the loss of her eye.

She was getting seriously tired of it. Surely they had milked it enough?

Apparently not.

It also didn't help that they kept going on about her wand, making assumptions about her. The newspaper she'd gotten only this morning was full of them, using the First Task as the 'proof' that the fabled Girl Who Lived, last of the noble Potter family, a family devoted to the light of magic, was now dark.

It never occurred to the idiot reporters who kept saying that her parents would be ashamed if they were still alive to witness their daughter using such dark methods to get through the tasks, blissfully unaware that their words would cause more harm for their paper until it was way too late, but at least the muggles were innocent. The magical half of the human race didn't give a thought about the pain she'd endured, they just wanted to live with their blinders on and make snide pointed remarks about how evil she was becoming.

But even the muggles were irritating.

Some of them had made several suggestions. One person had asked her rhetorically, knowing she could not reply, if a sick cat-hater had done something to her. In her mind Charlotte had merely thought to herself the suggestion was a good one, although it would need to be definitely reworded; instead of a cat hater, the _bitch _who had slashed her eye had hated her and hadn't realised the consequences of what she had been about to do.

Charlotte had gone over the incident many times and she had come to realise, especially after she had calmed down and was healed by the Founders and Dobby and Winky, what Susan Bones had done to her was just another example of how badly Dumbledore's tenure at Hogwarts had caused more harm than good.

But she had known for a long time none of the teachers actually bothered to punish the students. At least with nothing really long term. None of the teachers had problems issuing punishments like lines, detentions, or things like that, and Charlotte had found herself in detention more than once during her time, mostly because she had taken the fall for an incident or she had been found in a place at the wrong time, but other than that there were very few detentions she had taken which were ones which weren't meaningless.

Charlotte had lost count of the number of times she had taken detention for stopping a bully or something like that. Bullying was one thing she had never liked, mostly because she had often been a victim of it when she'd been much younger. Dudley had made her life at Primary school a living hell, he and his gang of neanderthals had terrorised her before she had killed the leader of their little posse, and as a result, she had never liked bullies. She'd encountered a few others here and there, especially when she had gone into care, and she wasn't surprised to encounter more bullies at Hogwarts. But she had lashed out at them, delivering terrible injuries along the way.

In one case, she had seen another first-year be picked on by older students. Charlotte had wanted to step in only for Hermione Granger to stick her nose in, but Charlotte had followed the other girl's advice and told a teacher.

The result?

Nothing.

The students continued to harass the first year. Charlotte had then taken the law into her own hands, realising the teachers were complete wimps. She had cursed them quite badly, and she had been put into detention, but she had spat at the teachers, asking them why they didn't punish the bullies as she had foolishly expected.

Again, they didn't reply.

It figured that the magical world was just as disappointing as the muggle one when it came to stopping this sort of thing, but what made it worse was Dumbledore's blanket policy of forgiveness was doing more harm than good, and as the generations of students left the hallowed halls of what was once a great school, they were having children and were basically taught to bow their heads and give power to the bullies. Now no-one outside the magical world seemed interested in doing anything.

The Death Eaters and their sick master was an extreme example of how the magical world just bowed their heads meekly in the face of bullies and didn't lift a finger to stop it. But what Susan Bones had done to her was just as terrible since the girl had lashed out in anger, and Charlotte had little doubt in her mind the other girl had expected the effects to not be as bad as they were.

No, not bad, awful.

Thinking of her eye made Charlotte mentally hope the eye currently being grown by Ravenclaw and Slytherin was ready soon. If having to cope with a single eye as a human wasn't bad enough, it was hard as a cat, especially since she needed both eyes to help her see the route ahead if she was balancing on a tree branch or the top of a fence. The Founders had mixed feelings about her current decision to commit a number of burglaries in Muggle London, but Charlotte didn't care. As she had told Helga and Godric, the only two were more vocal about her using her magical abilities to commit crimes, her reasons for committing heists was simple.

"_Godric, Helga; I've been a burglar for a long time. It's the only way of making a living I know. Yeah, I know there are other ways of making a living. I've been thinking of becoming a Curse-Breaker, and thanks to private study because _Dumbledore _meddled in my education, probably deeming the profession not for me, the _Girl who Lived," Charlotte had said to them, "_but I have trained to be a burglar for much of my life. It's a part of me. I can't just throw it away."_

Charlotte wasn't exaggerating. She was telling the truth. When she had first left Privet Drive, she had been forced to be a thief although she had stolen things in the past before that night in Number 4 when she had murdered the people Dumbledore had left her with even if it was a stupid error in judgement. She had started out small and she had grown stronger in her skills as a burglar, beginning as a lowly pickpocket and simple thief and rose higher and higher up the ladder. She had changed over from sneaking around, following people taller than her after she had seen them slide their wallets or purses back out of sight, where they assumed wrongly their cash would be safe, to travelling through various neighbourhoods and studying the different houses, seeing which ones looked like viable targets and which ones looked like they would be nothing but trouble for her to handle.

Charlotte came out of her thoughts violently when the sound of a motorcycle tearing through the streets made her turn her head quickly, and her one-remaining eye widened in horror when she caught sight of a figure sitting atop a motorcycle as tall as a mountain from her transformed point of view, came roaring towards her.

Charlotte yowled and leapt back onto the pavement just as the muggle sped past her. The cyclist never even saw her.

_Focus on the job, you idiot! _Charlotte thought to herself, and she took a deep breath - well, deep for a cat - and she crossed the road again, this time making sure her head was not stuck in the clouds as it had been before.

This time she made it across the road and she slipped in through the back of a row of houses. The cat which was Charlotte crept silently down the alley, sniffing the air, wrinkling her nose at the mixture of the unpleasant stench of the garbage from the different houses which was made worse as the heat from the sun cooked the bags in the bins, and the stench of equally cooked vegetation. But she ignored it as she crept along, slipping through the gaps of a gate as effortlessly as if she had stepped through a room.

She paused next to a bin and she crouched down and jumped onto the top, inwardly wincing at the stench before she pushed it aside and lightly jumped onto the fence. One of her front paws slipped slightly, but she was quick to compensate by using her claws to grapple on.

_That Amelia Bones better not bring her bitch of her niece around, _Charlotte angrily thought to herself as she righted herself, _otherwise I am going to murder her. Oooh, for two eyeballs again!_

Still dreaming about the thought of being able to see with two eyes instead of just the one, and having to use a separate means of being able to see to compensate for the single point of view, Charlotte looked around the back garden. She inwardly smiled when she saw the backdoor was open and most of the family was outside, having a barbecue.

Charlotte would have smiled if she had been in human form when she watched as the man she presumed was the father played with three kids, two girls and a boy, and they were laughing with joy.

_I could have had that as a kid, growing up, with parents. A family…., _she thought to herself, but she quickly pushed those thoughts aside as she focused on the job at hand (she hated herself for being jealous of this family; they didn't deserve it, and besides if her plans paid off, she would have children of her own soon enough. She didn't know if she was going to get married, but she definitely wanted children) and looked carefully over the garden as she tried to think of a blindspot she could use to her advantage.

She walked slowly down the fence to get away from the stench of the garbage, and when she found a clearer part of the garden where she could get a better sniff, she smelt the air. She cursed that she couldn't exactly pick up on any scent belonging to the family, but what annoyed her the most was she had no idea if this family owned a dog or not. Charlotte hoped they didn't own one; she'd had more than enough bad luck recently and she didn't feel up to dealing with a dog on top of everything else.

She spotted the blind spot she felt she needed. Slowly the cat moved in the direction of the house down the line of the fence.

XXX

In New Zealand, the woman sighed as she looked around the house. She and her husband had been trying to gather what little money they had for the return trip to Britain, a country they had both sworn never to return to ever again.

Not since…

She closed her eyes, unable to believe anyone could be so cruel, but she had been surprised.

She looked down at the photograph she and her husband had managed to acquire, showing Charlotte Potter exposing her empty eye cavity for all to see, and tears sprang to her eyes.

How anyone could justify that…it was unthinkable.

She sighed, wondering how Charlotte was going to react. She and her husband had little contact with the magical world, so they had no idea how Charlotte would react when they were reunited. They had given false names, living on the peripheral of magical society, but they were still a part of it enough to be allowed to view the Tournament. But after seeing what the girl had done, they were both worried that terrible power would be used on them even if they hadn't done anything to the girl.

XXX

Albus Dumbledore was pacing up and down in his office fretting. _I just need to be patient, _he continually told himself but as he did so, but it was hard. He had sent the letter he had spent hours last night drafting for Charlotte to read, and he truly hoped the girl responded. Dumbledore had taken on board what Poppy, Minerva, and Fillius had been saying about the girl, and he had also taken on board everything he had seen in the Tournament, and he had taken it from there.

The letter was only of small importance. Dumbledore had given standing orders to the teachers, Severus included, that if they saw the girl in the next few days, they were to either take her to Minerva so she could tell Charlotte about the Yule Ball and after that he had stressed he would personally wish to speak with Charlotte.

Dumbledore was not foolish in his instance, even if many of his ideas and decisions had been foolishly thought through.

He knew Charlotte was not going to like the thought of the dance, but he hoped his plan to have Charlotte dance with Ronald Weasley - he honestly hoped Ronald acted like a mature wizard during the Ball if he didn't then it would definitely cause problems for their long term future - even if he knew Charlotte found Ronald repulsive.

Not entirely news - even Dumbledore, who had taught personally many students over the decades, but while he had encountered many students given to gluttony, he had never encountered one who added gluttony with undeserved arrogance, stupidity, slovenliness equal measure. Unfortunately, Dumbledore knew Ronald was the only true choice if he wanted the last Potter (?) to live in the kind of life he wished for her, then so be it.

For the letter, Dumbledore knew he'd had his work cut out for him - this letter would require all of his diplomatic skill.

He had done his best to treat the girl as the adult she was now clearly even if it went against the grain because the girl, in Dumbledore's mind, was still a child; considering the wide gulf between their ages, that was unsurprising, if you looked at it.

But Dumbledore needed to accept the fact the girl was practically an adult. In any case, when he had written the first draft of the original letter, he had realised he was just going to have the request for a meeting go up in flames much like the majority of his plans for her. To get used to that, Dumbledore knew he would need to change his approach.

For a start, once he had read through the original draft he had seen he had been writing phrases which Charlotte would likely find patronising. At the same time, he realised he had added in far too many controlling phrases, also going as far as to say Lily and James would both be disappointed with her if she didn't agree to show up. Once he had read through the letter again, he had realised what he had done and he had instantly written it out.

If there was one thing Charlotte was unlikely to do, it was to take such an insult, and truthfully once Dumbledore had come to his senses when he had read the letter back to himself again, he had seen his mistake.

Well, the portraits of some of the headmasters and headmistresses had pointed it out for him, much to his irritation but he had taken the advice once he had taken it all on board.

Dumbledore knew the letter he'd sent off wouldn't be completely perfect, but if he could just get Charlotte to listen to him….

XXX

_Where is she? _Ron Weasley thought to himself as he stalked through the corridors - Hermione had not bothered to tell the redhead he was missing classes, although Ron hadn't worked out the reason - looking for Charlotte so he could find _"his future wife," _and "_woo her with my charm." _

_I wonder if she's in the Great Hall, or the Kitchens, _Ron thought to himself as the dim light bulb of the idea lit up in his head before popping. Confidently, he headed on his way to the kitchens before he realised he had no idea where the kitchens were.

As he walked down the corridors, however, Filch appeared around the corner. Surprise flittered across the squib caretaker's aged face before a grin spread across his face.

XXX

Charlotte jumped when she heard the sound of someone moving around downstairs. She went as still as a statue, listening out carefully for any signs of one of the homeowners heading upstairs. Fortunately, there was no sign of anyone immediately heading upstairs. The only sounds she could hear downstairs were pretty mundane; she could hear someone moving about in the sizeable kitchen downstairs, and she could hear the faint sound of water running.

She relaxed a little, but she stood a little more rigidly before she looked down at the bag she had her loot in. Four houses into the street and she had made a sizeable amount of plunder. She felt she'd made more than enough here, and so she picked up the bag and she transformed into her animagus form. She slowly made her way down the stairs and she slipped out of the house, thankful for her small size as she crept out of the garden.

After she had gotten out of the neighbourhood, after deciding that she'd had enough of this part of the world although she had every intention of returning to Little Whinging and burgle the old place.

In the meantime, she would head for some of her old stomping grounds.

XXX

Charlotte flinched as the sound of really bad pop music blared in her ears, piercing even the mild charm she'd discovered which could handle the task of dulling down the sounds so she could stand them better. Ignoring the sounds with some effort, she headed over to the bar counter. A young man, a few years older than she was with longish dark hair, looked up at her while he was serving someone else. His eyes widened slightly, and when he had finished with his previous customer he walked over.

"Chaz, looking hot as always," he drawled, gazing at her slim, petite body with obvious lust. "Still with the leather look eh? Where have you been? You haven't been here for a long time. What's with the sunglasses?"

"You know me, Dave," Charlotte replied with a smirk. "The leather's been my favourite for a long time. I don't see any reason to change. Anyway, I managed to find my family, and I moved away from London but I still come to the city once in a while. And the sunglasses…my eye was injured, and I don't want anyone to see it. It's recovering."

She wasn't entirely telling a lie about her clothes, but the last thing she wanted was for anyone to know the full truth about her home. Her eye? Well, that was private.

"Fair enough," Dave shrugged, but he couldn't take his eyes off of Charlotte.

Charlotte inwardly snorted. His interest in her was too obvious even if he wasn't the ladies man he thought he was, but once more she had to be thankful she'd inherited her mother's beauty. Still, this was going to be too easy.

She and Dave had a rather sordid history.

The pair of them had grown up together in the same foster home. Okay, he was a few years older than her, but only a few years. But where some boys and girls tried to be bad, Dave actually was; oh, he wasn't a psychotic 'bad' he was just a bad boy. When the pair of them had met in the foster home after she'd gotten off the streets, Charlotte and he recognised each other as kindred spirits even if Dave had never been at her level. Still, he knew quite a bit about what was happening in the underworld.

That was one of the reasons why she often visited him.

Another was for information. And she had found out the best way to get information out of him was to have sex with him because as he had grown older waiting for her to mature so then he could fuck her, Charlotte had only done it because getting information about new opportunities for thefts and heists was becoming harder. In the end, she'd needed to make a choice. And she hadn't regretted it since. Charlotte was not a virgin, she had lost her virginity after her second year at Hogwarts, and she had lost it to this guy who'd taken her several times.

More than once she'd lured him away from whatever he'd been doing, and then they'd had sex together.

At the same time, she had learnt a lot, and when she'd gotten her hands on her custom wands she had used magic to take what she'd needed. Charlotte regretted nothing.

With a smile, she leaned forward and she beckoned him over.

Dave smirked as well and he leaned in close so she could whisper into his ear without the music distracting them.

"Do you wanna fuck me?" Charlotte whispered.

She saw his smirk widen. "Oh, yeah!"

"Let's do it now. Get someone to take over from you for a few minutes, and then we can go out."

"Hold on, right now?" Dave moved back a bit to look her in the eye, stunned. "I-I'm working-!"

Charlotte chuckled and she pulled him back to whisper into his ear. "When has that ever stopped you?" she whispered. "Come on, just tell someone you're going on a break, or you have something to do. I don't care; I've been deprived of you for some time, and I thought we could catch up."

Dave swallowed a little bit, but he nodded and he headed off. Charlotte's single remaining eye followed him as he walked away, and saw he had wandered over to a woman wearing the same black and white barkeep uniform the club liked to have its staff wear, and he saw them chat for a moment or two, but Charlotte saw the exasperation and annoyance in the woman's body language.

She wasn't bothered if Dave had dipped his wand into other cauldrons, it wasn't her problem. In any case, they only had sex intermittently and it wasn't as if the pair of them were going to marry.

Dave came back after a few minutes of wrangling with the other bartender. "Okay, we can go. But I can only be gone about ten minutes," he added, looking at her nervously as he leaned in to speak with her.

"That's no problem," Charlotte reassured him. Ten minutes would be more than enough time for them to have a quick fuck and at the same time get information about the latest robberies that were said to be big although truthfully she had favoured robbing the Hatton Garden area, although she wasn't going to make the same amateurish mistakes as those old morons who had made left too many clues behind until they were sloppy. But at the same time, she wanted to get into a fight, one she could easily escape from.

Dave led Charlotte into a backroom full of junk. It wasn't the most romantic places, but neither of them cared much about that. Dave turned around and captured Charlotte's lips in a kiss. She moaned a little bit, deepening the kiss while she used her hands to stroke his body. She let her hands go down to his belt where she loosened it before unbuttoning his trousers until, within seconds, she had his trousers down and was gently using her hands to pull down his boxers where there was a sizable tent.

Charlotte pulled the boxers down and she caught Dave's cock in her mouth, gently using her teeth to stimulate him although she didn't bite down too hard.

"Damn it, you slut!" he moaned while he placed both hands on her head. "This is what I love about you. You sure know how to please a guy…"

Charlotte ignored the slut part and bobbed her head up and down the erect penis. She pulled off her leather jacket and then her shirt, exposing her breasts to him before she took off her bra. Her uniform at Hogwarts hid the size of her bust to all. They weren't huge, but they weren't small either.

Dave smirked as he saw what Charlotte was doing; she had slipped out his cock and she had slipped it between her boobs. She licked the tip of his cock while she rubbed his shaft using her tits.

He bit his lip when he realised he was about to come. "Damn it, Chaz," he hissed. "I'm gonna cum."

Charlotte didn't stop her ministrations although she placed his cock back into her mouth since she didn't want him to come all over her clothes. The deluge didn't take her by surprise, and she gulped down Dave's semen before she let it trickle down her face.

"Damn, Charlotte," he groaned, looking down at her in annoyance. "I was hoping to fuck you."

"Why are you complaining?" Charlotte replied. "Give you a few minutes, and then we can continue."

Dave rolled his eyes.

Charlotte sighed and she snapped out her wand deciding this was the best time.

"Wha-?"

Charlotte flicked his wand at him…

"Oooh, ooh, yes!" Charlotte cried a few minutes later while Dave grunted while he continued to fuck her. While Charlotte was moaning in pleasure as Dave fucked her, she thought hard about the news Dave had given her.

According to the grapevine, a gang was looking for a fence to exchange jewellery for hard cash. Granted, the gang weren't stupid enough to say anything about where this robbery was going to take place, knowing the police had informants everywhere. That was the bad news, but it wasn't unexpected, and it showed Charlotte and any other professional criminal living in this city this gang was either smart enough to cover their tracks which meant they were an experienced gang, or they were a bunch of newbies with a gram of common sense shared between them.

The good news was Dave, who was really fucking her after she had used mind magic on him to tell her the facts he was meant to study under mental coercion, did know who they were, and where they were based.

Even better, the robbery was going to be taking place either tonight or the next day.

Charlotte didn't care which.

"Oh fuck!" Charlotte cried out when Dave came inside her again.

At the moment the door opened and someone came in. "What the hell is going on?" he demanded.

Charlotte stood up and smirked as Dave made excuses, but the other man didn't like it. "That's it, you're fired! This is the sixth time someone's complained about you-!"

"That won't be necessary," Charlotte said, flicking her hand again while she waved her wand at them, freezing them both. She spent the next few minutes rewriting the memories of the other man, who was part of the managerial staff and with Dave so they wouldn't remember the use of magic and her wand. At the same time, she cleaned both herself and Dave before she flicked her wand at the pile of clothes, and within moments they had their clothes on again.

Once she was finished Charlotte flicked her wand again, unfreezing them.

"Dave," the manager said, "how many times have I got to tell you not to meet one of your girlfriends?"

"I'm sorry, sir," Dave fidgeted.

"Still no harm is done. Now take her out, and don't do this again."

"Right sir."

Charlotte wore a smirk on her face as she walked out of the room.

XXX

For the next two days, Charlotte watched the gang very carefully. They were just an ordinary group of people who didn't do anything suspicious enough to warrant scrutiny and they lived in ordinary houses and had ordinary lives, with jobs although they weren't married. To an outside observer, it seemed unthinkable they would do anything unlawful.

But looks were deceiving, as Charlotte was more than aware of.

But Charlotte had already met with one of the gang, using a potion to put one of them to sleep briefly so she could question him. She had learnt the gang were planning on committing the robbery on one of the jewellery shops in London. They had thought of committing the burglary in Hatton Garden, but unfortunately they didn't want to do that since those oldsters had done it before them while they were working out the basics, so they had cancelled it and opted to burgle another shop which was easier to get into.

Charlotte understood and appreciated the logic of that, but it made little difference to her.

On the night of the robbery, Charlotte had climbed onto the gang's van and used a sticking charm to herself, thankful it was pitch dark, so she wouldn't slip off and covered her face with a scarf. She didn't move a muscle while the gang quietly parked themselves in front of the shop, which surprised her, and she watched as three of the five-man gang slipped out and broke into the jewellery store while another went out to keep watch, and the last man sat at the wheel. Charlotte winced when one of the gang made a huge amount of noise just getting into the place while they used a blowtorch.

_Idiots!_

While they were distracted, Charlotte began counting. The object was to work out how many seconds it would take for the gang to get in, immobilise the alarms, and then begin smashing the place up before they returned to the van.

She had reached about 102 when she suddenly went rigid. She could hear the sound of sirens in the distance, coming closer.

_What's happened? Surely the police couldn't have caught wind of this already, surely? Has the Hatton garden robbery and what I did with either the Louvre or the Tower made the police more vigilant? _

Charlotte heard the man inside the van's cab mutter to himself. It was quite loud and audible enough for her to hear anyway.

"Are the police coming already? Hurry up!"

Charlotte grimaced. She had known from the moment she had questioned the man with that potion and a spell, the gang were new to this gig and as a result they weren't prepared for the potential risks, but she could understand them. Still, it would have been nicer if he calmed down but since he was on his own without anyone to reassure him, it was a disaster waiting to happen since he could easily start the engine up and panicking.

Fortunately the other members of the gang came rushing out of the jewellery store.

"How come the police are coming?"

"I don't know. Call Kev, ask him what's going on."

The gang member who was apparently the one on lookout came rushing towards the van. "The police are getting closer. I just saw a squad car."

"Right, in the van, quick," the guy who was apparently the leader snapped and they clambered into the van just as the shop exploded spraying glass everywhere in a hot burst of fire and smoke.

Charlotte looked at the remains of the shop in surprise wondering why they had bothered to do that, but she didn't have time to think about it as the van suddenly sped off. Charlotte didn't move much, thanks to the charm she'd used, but she winced at just how amateurish they had taken off like that. She looked over her shoulder, and she saw the squad cars coming closer and closer.

"Fuck!" she whispered, unable to believe how this had gone bad so easily and quickly. She hadn't expected it. What made it worse was she was uncertain if she could escape with what she wanted. She mentally cursed herself for going for a gang who would do the work for her, realising she should have done the job by herself.

But an idea came to mind. It was risky but it had to be done.

She slipped one of her wands out of her holster and she cast a wordless curse at the wheels of the lead squad car. A smirk crossed her invisible features although she didn't like the use of magic in this case. Her custom made wands lacked the Trace, but that didn't mean the Ministry wouldn't be keeping an eye out on the muggle areas and keeping watch out for all incidents involving magical use. Charlotte's status in the magical world was dubious especially with the outcome of the First Task, but she knew if she so much as broke the Statute even slightly despite the precautions she took every time she committed a theft and needed to perform magic, her life would not be worth living. Even worse, it would reveal to everyone what she was in the muggle world, and she did not want that.

Charlotte knew she could be an animagus or she could render herself unseen to the muggles, but she knew she needed to be careful and could not afford to be too casual about her activities. But still, it was satisfying to watch the police car spinning out of control, skidding into the pavement and causing congestion. She turned back, mocking the police while she felt the van accelerate as the gang took advantage of the unexpected good fortune, but she knew this was only a temporary solution since the police wouldn't need long to find the gang.

Charlotte bit her lip as she tried to work out what she was going to do now. Ideally the van would stop so she could deal with the gang, and she cursed herself for not getting inside the van while the robbery had taken place but she had hoped she could do it away from the scene. But these amateurs had put paid to that plan.

An idea sprang to mind. She flicked her wand back into place and she cast a spell on the van itself, using her occlumency barriers to prevent the compulsions she was weaving into the gang to block them out for herself. It took a few minutes but the van eventually stopped off at a McDonalds after the compulsion charm she'd used on them made them go and grab something to eat. Charlotte grimaced. This idea was incredibly stupid and badly rushed instead of the carefully thought out plan she'd had originally. She unstuck herself and she jumped off the van, and she raced away before she removed the spell rendering her invisible to the naked eye before she conjured the tools she'd need to break into the van.

She went back to the van with her hood up and she worked quickly on the lock of the backdoors. It took her slightly longer than she'd hoped, and she cursed her lack of practice in breaking into vans and cars.

Once upon a time Charlotte had been considered one of the best carjackers, but she had let the skill become stale since the discovery of magic and the introduction of her custom made wands had allowed her to broaden her scope, so carjacking was no longer something she used to earn her living, and her skills were rusty.

Just as she was considering using one of her wands to break in, she sighed with relief as the lock clicked. "Thank the lord," she whispered, feeling her racing heart. She got into the van, wishing one of the gang had opted to stay in the van with the jewellery, it would have made things easier. "I swear on my parents' graves, I will never take such a skill for granted again. The moment I get home I will write a list of the things I need to really brush up upon…"

Any more self-recriminations were pushed aside when she took in the bags of jewellery. Granted it was a small haul, smaller than the gang had likely hoped for, but it was big enough for them. And for Charlotte.

She grinned and she emptied the lot into her backpack while she kept a watch for the gang. She unzipped her jacket and fingered her gun in the holster.

"Don't keep me waiting, will you boys?" she grinned while she continued emptying the bags.

Charlotte was in the van for a good half an hour before the gang came back, but by then she had already finished emptying the bags. She slowly pulled out the gun covered up, and she cocked it. She could hear the gang outside, chatting, but then her eyes widened in horror when she heard the sound of sirens drawing closer. The van doors swung open and they were about to climb inside but they caught sight of her sunglass covered features.

"Who the fuck are you?" one demanded eloquently.

Charlotte lifted the gun and fired it twice before she aimed a shot at the startled driver and the guy in the passenger seat. Charlotte smirked when she saw the last member of the gang runoff, but she decided to let him go. She didn't care what he did by this point, and besides, it was unlikely they would bump into each other again. In any case, she had to worry about the police.

She jumped out of the van just as they were coming up to the van. Charlotte watched them thoughtfully for a moment before she glanced down at her gun clasped in her hand. In the old days, she would have run but something was holding her back. For a moment Charlotte wondered what the problem was and she knew the police themselves were wondering what was going on in turn, but she realised quickly what it was.

Susan Bones had caused her to snap and now she wanted nothing more than to lash out at the world until her anger at it was abated. She knew it was risky, but with the police coming in she realised she had a nice outlet for her anger. She grinned and she raised her gun and opened fire. She shot one of the leading cars' windows and aimed another bullet at the front wheels. The bullet burst through the tire and it popped like a balloon, making it skid before it crashed into a streetlamp.

Charlotte fired again at the police, damaging more of the cars before she broke off into a run, shoving the gun into her pocket and zipping it shut while the police cars following the ones behind slammed on their brakes to avoid being shot at in turn. She raced through the streets, unsurprised when she heard the police behind her, knowing that they had recovered quickly after she'd shot at them. She'd only shot at a few cars while those other cars braked hard. With that, it wouldn't have taken them long to recover and pull out so they could chase her. What she'd just done was a surprise for London police, but they would adapt quickly if they hadn't already.

She knew the police were likely calling up the Armed Response Unit, or the SAS, or whomever they called in cases like this. She didn't care. It wouldn't matter one way or another, not if she could escape.

_Let me see, _she thought to herself as she scanned her surroundings, thankful for her jogs and other exercises while the police pursued her. _No time to hide under a car…Err, no…I can't use a doorway…Ah! At last! _

Granted while she knew an alleyway was corny and cliche, in this case, it was perfect. She raced down the alley until she found a number of wheelie bins. She grimaced at the stench.

"Hardly ideal, but needs must," she muttered to herself while she focused.

Meanwhile, at the end of the alley, DI Egham stepped out of his car, squinting into the darkness. He yawned loudly, uncaring if he was seen, but he hated night duty even if it was an occupational hazard, but he knew it disappointed his wife. In the meantime, he had something more on his mind than whether or not his thoughts about whether or not his wife was actually cheating on him or not were true.

The first was asking himself what the hell was going on. The call had come in from one of the shop-owners who had alerted the police that one of their neighbours, a jewellery shop, had been broken into, but the response had been noisy as hell which was the last thing Egham would have done. To make matters worse when they had gone in pursuit, one of the cars had suddenly suffered a puncture.

The second thing on his mind was trying to work out where that person with a gun had come from. Egham knew there had been a gang involved in the jewellery shop break-in, but from the look of it the new character had come in and wiped the lot out, although whether they knew about the jewellery heist or not, he couldn't tell. It would make more sense if they didn't know until they'd come across the loot in the back of the van after breaking into it.

Now they were going to have to cope with a potential shootout with a dark alley. Egham could understand the crooks' motive, of course; while they were small and light on their feet, the police had been gaining. Even the strongest athlete couldn't have lasted against those odds. But what was going on in the mind of that small criminal now? Were they planning on a shootout? Did they have another plan, if so what was it?

_God, as if we don't need more mysteries or grief, especially following the Crown Jewel job, _he grimaced, remembering the summer robbery which had been pulled off so meticulously and so brilliantly even now the best brains could not work out how it had been done, although the Louvre robbery had caught the French by surprise as well.

"When's Armed Response here?" he demanded of a DC.

"They should be here within half an hour."

Egham cursed. "That's wonderful. In the meantime, that guy is going to escape."

"Nothing they can do, sir," the DC replied, "they say it's the best they can estimate."

Egham sighed. "Are the other officers at the other entrances to this alley?"

"Yes. They're keeping watch, but its quiet, sir." the DC said.

"I don't understand what that guy is gonna do," Egham said aloud, voicing a thought that had popped in only now.

"It's like something out of a movie."

"Not all things are, Constable," Egham reminded the younger officer, turning to him briefly before looking back at the alley. He wished he wasn't the only senior officer here so then he could trade options of what they could be doing right now. Unfortunately, their options were limited in this case given how this one was armed and dangerous, otherwise, he would have ordered his men to follow without hesitation but even with their vests to protect them, coppers were not immortal.

He sighed as movement from the alley caught his eye. He immediately checked and he relaxed when he saw the sleek form of a cat slinking its way out. When the Armed Response team came in and searched the alley thoroughly, they found nothing and they had searched everywhere they could think of. In the end, it was assumed the gunman-gunwoman - whatever - had managed to find an exit they didn't know about, though they acknowledged it made little sense.

Little did they realise they had seen the thief escape.

XXX

Charlotte sighed as she landed on the ground. While she disliked portkey travel at the best of times, she had to admit being taught the skill by the Founders themselves was cool as well as helpful since she wasn't constantly using Dobby or Winky, but since her House-elves were busy at the moment with finding out more about the Second Task she didn't want to keep dragging them to her even if they would not complain.

Getting away from the police was simple, just transform into her animagus form, and slip past them to travel to another street, find a blindspot without CCTV anywhere, and then portkey home.

She looked at the mail on the table and she sighed when she saw one had come from the Daily Prophet offering a grovelling apology. Still, she wasn't bothered about that one until she read the next article. It had taken the goblins two days to hammer it into the Daily Prophet editors office the facts that she was the one holding all the cards, and she was grateful to them for that.

Ignoring the Prophet letter, Charlotte looked at the others before dismissing them when she came across a fairly large box with a letter attached. She picked it up and opened it after checking to see if it was harmless. A quick glance reminded her she had hired a group of solicitors to retrieve her parents things from Godric's Hollow.

Charlotte had learnt shortly after her eye had been destroyed the Ministry had taken some of her parents things in the hopes of creating a museum, completely dismissing the fact they were House Potter property, and she had used the new authority she had discovered which was connected to the Headship status she'd inherited as the last Potter to force the Ministry to give it all back to her.

The Ministry hadn't liked it, but she had told the solicitors to show no mercy. It had taken weeks and weeks, judging from the amount of time that had passed, but the Ministry had given in. She checked the letter and saw they'd had everything checked to make sure nothing had been tampered with. She frowned a little when she saw there had been a camera included that had been found by the Ministry who'd gone over the house's wreckage before they had just taken it with the film inside, and it hadn't been processed for years until now.

Charlotte picked up the box and ignored the post - she would get to it in the morning - and she took it upstairs to the living room suite. Once in the living room she turned on the TV and selected a _Star Trek _movie, desiring optimism instead of reality for once, and she opened the box. The first thing she saw on top was a plain brown parchment envelope.

_The pictures, _Charlotte guessed and she picked it up and opened it.

She chuckled as she saw the photos of Sirius' antics with Remus; while she currently hated the surviving Marauders for being backstabbers, she had to admit this was funny, and besides this collection had been snapped in a point of time when the Marauders were more carefree, but the fact the prime glue for their existence was alive at the time and wasn't dead meant their obligations hadn't changed.

She laughed when she saw Remus hex Sirius and made him tap dance so fast it looked as if Sirius was actually going to pull his feet off, and she definitely chuckled when she saw both Peter and Remus covered with what looked like paint. Charlotte snorted in amusement, a smile tugging on her lips as she saw Sirius and Remus seemingly oblivious while walking around with long ears in place of their own.

But her smile faded when she saw the next picture.

It was a picture of her mother holding her in her arms. Lily looked so happy and serene just holding her baby self in her arms, completely unaware of what was coming for her, her husband, and her daughter.

Charlotte looked at the picture beneath. This time her baby self was sitting astride a broomstick with her father, James' hair looked more unkempt than ever while Charlotte saw her baby self wearing a massive grin. Charlotte stroked the picture, barely recognising herself; in those days she'd been on with loving parents instead of magic-hating muggles who had hated her very existence, but she looked at James closely.

She started to cry. Charlotte bit her lip to stop the deluge, but after seeing her father's carefree smile and her mother's serene expression she decided to open the floodgates and she began to really sob.

"Why?" she whispered, sniffling as the tears trickled down her face from her remaining eye. "Why did they do it? Why did they take you from me?"

She hated getting like this. Ever since the day she had discovered the truth of her parent's deaths and how everyone had placed her on a pedestal, her attitude towards her parents had changed; in the past she had resented them for dying, for being worthless drunks like the Dursleys had painted them as, but when it had changed she had found love and affection for them she had never expected.

In any case, when she had seen how her parents were with her as a baby, her image of them as being diluted versions of Petunia and Vernon (insults against nature itself) who'd tolerated her had shattered forever and it never failed to make her cry.

Charlotte hugged the pictures of her parents to her chest, and all the pain she'd felt since the Tournament came around, the loss of her eye, it all came out as she hugged the pictures of her family to her heart.


	10. Chapter 10 Breaking the Alliance Ties

I don't own Harry Potter still. However, please enjoy this double-bill.

* * *

The Hell of Fourth Year.

Three days later Charlotte was looking around the kitchen/dining area of the windmill, looking at the immaculately clean surfaces and the table with the dark red tablecloth thrown over it with two jugs of ice cool water, charmed to remain at a constant cool temperature and some glasses.

With the clean kitchen/dining room and the tablecloth thrown over and Charlotte herself dressed in a rich purple dress with a House robe thrown over her shoulder with the Potter family shield to show how seriously she was taking this meeting.

Although the Alliance members had responded to the agreement for the meeting with great enthusiasm, Charlotte had read between the lines of the reply and known they had not really liked the thought of the meeting being hosted at her home.

Charlotte's experience in politics was virtually zero, but even she knew when someone wanted to be intimidating. She had heard of dozens of instances when key members in organised crime in London had hosted meetings in neutral locations simply because they didn't want to give too much power to their opposite number, and while she knew she could have asked the same here, Charlotte hadn't wanted to because she had wanted them to know where she stood.

She checked her watch and sighed. She honestly wasn't looking forward to this meeting even if she had arranged it, but she was going to meet the people who could have ensured she was well cared for but had done nothing for her, and even when she had gone to Hogwarts none of them had even tried to make an effort to really get in touch with her although she had no idea if Dumbledore had gone to some trouble as he had with keeping Weasley and Granger with her to make sure the Alliance's children steered clear of her.

There was a chime from the wardstone.

Charlotte sighed and she walked over to the door, wondering how they'd react when they saw the paper sign pinned to the door reading **WIPE YOUR FEET **and she wondered if they would be insulted. Oh, who was she kidding, of course, they would. But truthfully she was tired of all the dirt the magical world heaped on her shoulders.

She opened the door and she found herself looking at two formidable-looking witches who looked close to age as her former Head of House; one of them had a monocle in her eye and the other had a tall hat on her head with a stuffed vulture pinned to it.

Charlotte knew who the second witch was. This was Neville's grandmother, and judging from her pinched expression although there appeared to be a tinge a worry there in both of their expressions, they were cautious about this meeting. That surprised Charlotte since she hadn't expected that, she had thought they would come here confident they'd have their way. She wasn't sure if the Alliance members had more brain cells compared to Fudge or Dumbledore, but she hoped they did. She was tired of magical stupidity.

Charlotte looked past the two witches and she saw two men. She instantly recognised one of them as Ernie's father not only because of the resemblance between the pair of them since they had the same figures and the facial structures but he also had the same pompous aura she had seen Ernie exude whenever she'd encountered him. She only hoped he was more mature than his son and didn't jump to conclusions like Ernie did if that happened then Charlotte was going to make him wake up very quickly.

The second man was the complete opposite of Ernie and Charlotte wondered how on Earth this Alliance had even been formed in the first place since these people seemed to exude different personalities. This man was clearly Cyrus Greengrass. Charlotte didn't have that much contact with his daughters Daphne and Astoria, but she knew their reputations as the Ice Queen and Ice Princess of Slytherin, and she had seen the same impassive expression in the two girls' the few times she had come across them. Now she knew where they had gotten it from.

But as she studied Cyrus Greengrass, Charlotte wondered what his excuse was; she could understand the girls being Slytherins, but she wondered what their excuse was in general...

Charlotte wouldn't have been surprised in the least if the senior representatives of the Alliance which had been a part of the magical world for centuries were studying her in the least since she had been studying them. Indeed, they were looking at the last of the Potter and the Girl Who Lived. They could see the girl was a blend of her parents given she resembled Lily although she had James' hair colour and they knew she had Lily's emerald green eyes but her remaining eye was covered by a pair of green-tinted sunglasses. With the sunglasses and the short black hair and the cold expression on Charlotte's face, she appeared hard, unyielding.

"Come in," she stepped back and let them into her home.

Augusta Longbottom was looking around, trying hard to keep her disdain for the windmill hidden from the girl who had the power to literally shatter magical politics. The mill was not what she had expected, and she wondered what in the name of Merlin Charlotte had been thinking when she purchased the place and why she wasn't living in a magical property.

She turned to look at Charlotte, only to find the girl looking at her with an eyebrow raised and her mouth twisted. Augusta back-peddled a bit, wondering to herself if the girl knew legilimency since she seemed to know what she was thinking. That was not a good sign. They had hoped the girl would be easy to speak to.

Charlotte took their cloaks and hung them up with a flick of her wand on the coat hangers before she walked over to her seat and sat down. The Alliance members looked aghast as if she had just broken a tenant of some sort. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"We would normally all sit at the same time to show unity," MacMillan senior answered.

Charlotte raised a brow. "Considering the matter at hand, I don't think unity is on the cards," she pointed out and remained where she was and folded her hands looking at the members expectantly.

When they were all seating, all of them askance by the lack of protocol, silence fell over the table while the Alliance members looked at each other hoping for one of them to speak first. This was the first full meeting with the Alliance in years since James and Charlus Potter's deaths at the hands of the Dark Lord and his followers.

For years they had hoped to have Charlotte around so they could show the Potter heiress her responsibilities, only to be shunned. But now things were clear that their assumptions were wrong. They only hoped to repair whatever damage had been caused to the Potter heiress and keep the Alliance going.

They would have preferred being in Potter Manor, or one of the more recognised properties. This windmill was not what they'd pictured, and as a result, they were out of their comfort zone.

Cyrus Greengrass broke the silence first, deciding to see what he could learn from the girl. He had a feeling the girl had brought them here to give her a position of strength. "I have to say, Miss Potter, I was intrigued and amused by the open letter of apology the Daily Prophet printed. How did you manage that?"

Charlotte smirked. "I own 60% of the shares in the Prophet," she answered. "As soon as the article came out, I immediately rescinded them. Like many businesses, the Prophet requires a regular dose of funds to keep going. With my contribution rescinded, the Prophet's resources would be cut in half."

Greengrass nodded in understanding. He regularly ensured businesses did as he told them under the threat of losing his investment, so he understood the technique. "Do you intend to give them back?"

"I don't know, but I've cut out the photograph of Rita Skeeter," Charlotte smirked. "I'm planning on framing it, while I use the rest of the article for other things."

"That's harsh, don't you think?" Septimus MacMillan asked hesitantly, although with a tinge of the same pomposity his son exuded.

"If they had bothered to do their homework, I wouldn't have done it would I?" Charlotte snapped. "What did they expect, that I was just going to roll over and allow it. That kind of reaction led to the loss of my eye, and the fact some of your own children took part in the hell I had to take at that fucking school makes it worse!"

Charlotte calmed herself down with a lot of effort.

Amelia Bones closed her eyes, realising this was not going to be as easy as they had hoped although looking at it from Charlotte's perspective made that abundantly clear. She was about to open her mouth, hoping to make peace with the girl, who was clearly very angry, but Augusta spoke next. "We have many things to discuss, Miss Potter," the old witch said formally, keeping her clear disdain of the muggle surroundings to herself even if they were obvious. "But first I would like to ask you a question; it's been implied you have been aware of the Alliance and yet you haven't said or done anything about it, do you mind explaining that?"

Charlotte sighed. "I don't know where you people got the impression I was aware of the Alliance from the moment I stepped through Hogwart's gates, but I didn't. I also don't understand where this assumption that I had grown up in the magical world came from, although I have a good idea who had spread that rumour around. I didn't find out about the Alliance until last year."

"You never knew?" Septimus whispered.

"No, I didn't. None of your children bothered to approach me either," Charlotte said. "At least not of their own initiative."

"That's not true!" Everyone turned to Septimus MacMillan, who lacked the control to keep the anger out of his voice. "My son told me himself that you didn't want anything to do with the Alliance."

"And who told them that?" Charlotte sneered. "Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger. A pureblood from a disgraced magical family and a muggle-born witch with delusions of grandeur. Both of them are Dumbledore's spies. But even with that in mind, why should I truly care about the Alliance since you were never there for me in the past?"

The Alliance heads looked at each other in astonishment. Charlotte looked around at each face, in turn, to gauge how they took this latest news; al of them was surprised by the sudden revelation although Cyrus Greengrass looked like he was putting two and three together. Augusta Longbottom looked furious that Dumbledore would interfere to this degree in a long-standing magical Alliance, but not surprised. Amelia Bones looked annoyed but unsurprised herself. Only Septimus MacMillan was truly surprised by the revelation.

"How do you know that; I doubt they would have told you?" Bones asked. "And as for the Alliance not doing anything for you in the past, we tried to make Dumbledore and the Ministry allow us access to you, but he managed to block us."

The teenager didn't seem surprised at that news. "Hmm, that makes sense. Whatever Dumbledore had planned for me he didn't want you to interfere in what he had in mind. I can excuse that at least. As for Granger and Weasley…," Charlotte glanced at the woman. "It was little things at first," she said, "I didn't trust either of them, and although Granger became friends later," she sneered at the word friend, "Ronald gave himself away pretty quickly with an obvious lie about how everywhere else on the Hogwarts express was full, and yet if that was the case why did I have a compartment to myself?"

Cyrus shook his head and muttered something about Gryffindor stupidity. Charlotte said nothing since she agreed wholeheartedly.

"In any case," Charlotte went on, "later events pointed out that Dumbledore must have made the two of them my friends; he knew far more about my life than I would have liked. It makes sense they would have kept your children away from me, although they didn't help."

"What do you mean?" Augusta asked indignantly. "I told my Neville to speak to you, more than once-."

"He didn't, Madam Longbottom," Charlotte interrupted, looking at her pointedly through her sunglasses. "I don't know if he told you lies, but you know something it's not my problem, and I genuinely don't care. Neville is a sheep, he follows the crowd because it is easy and safe for him. And none of the others bothered. Neville was a Gryffindor, he was in the best position to speak to you."

"Neville has always been a timid boy," Augusta ground out, clearly unhappy with needing to speak about this as if the problems with her grandson who had little to no self-esteem were to be kept top secret. "He was likely intimidated-."

"Oh come on, don't give me that," Charlotte became harsh now, and she was now wondering if the woman even realised some of the issues with her grandson were because of her own issues, but the issues in the Longbottom family were not her problem since she had her own life to lead and she wasn't interested in holding the hands of other people. "Intimidated, by what? By whom? Granger and Weasley? Neville was in the best position out of everyone to speak to me; hell, we even worked together, for crying out loud. He had _so many opportunities _to speak to me. Sometimes the spies weren't even there, so don't say he was intimidated!"

Amelia closed her eyes when she saw Augusta becoming more and angrier as Charlotte pointed out the flaws in her grandson, flaws Augusta had done her level best to try to hide. She only hoped her old friend didn't make a stupid mistake since they were on tentative ground as it was.

"Neville had numerous chances to speak to me. I did my best to be friendly with him, but the fact is either he believed the lies Granger or Weasley told him or he simply didn't care. The fact is he's a teenager now, so he has a mind of his own. He could simply have waited until the two morons were out of sight, and he could have told me about the Alliance. On top of that, during this year, he didn't say or do anything when my name came out of that stupid Goblet. The fact is Neville is like the majority of people in Hogwarts."

"Oh, and what is that?" Augustas' voice was tight with rage.

Charlotte picked up on the anger. "If you're going to lose your temper with me, Madam Longbottom, then you can simply leave. I'm not going to have you throw a temper tantrum in my home. And don't think I haven't picked up on your disdain. I can smell it from here, but I do not care about your feelings about it. I live in this windmill because I don't have access to the Potter properties, so it's not my fault. Do you understand?"

Amelia placed a hand on her old friend's arm, warning her not to provoke Charlotte.

Charlotte took notice of the action. "While I can't understand why Neville won't come to me, I can understand why your daughters," here she turned to look at Cyrus, her expression blank, "couldn't; with the hostility between the houses, it's not hard to see why they couldn't have approached, so there is a reason there, although like with Neville Longbottom, they could have found a way."

"I was under the impression you despised Slytherins?" Cyrus pointed out, looking at her with curiosity rather than anger at the flaws being pointed out.

"I am only hostile to people who are hostile to me. I don't care about the divisions between the Houses. I don't care about the one-sided grudges sent my way by finite man-children like Snape, who has already raised a stink about the deal I made legally with the goblins. Or little bastards like Draco Malfoy, who thinks I actually care about the little contests I have with him," Charlotte pointed out.

"Must you swear every time?" Augusta spat.

Charlotte turned slowly to face Augusta. "I find your hostility tiresome. Yes, I do need to swear. It gets my contempt for so many people out there, in the open. Why are you so hostile?"

Augusta took a deep breath. "I am just amazed a family as old as the Potter's would spit on the traditions and the Alliance. You show no respect for anything, do you?"

"Oh, like the magical world showed my family respect when the Ministry seized the house they were murdered in? I had to have an army of solicitors take back what was rightfully mine, but they will never bring," Charlotte had stood up and raced up the stairs, and they could hear her rummaging around for a bit before she came crashing down and threw a heap of photographs on the table, "them back, will it? WILL IT?!"

Amelia jumped at the shout but she felt her heart clench when she saw the photographs of Lily and James and baby Charlotte.

"Don't shove your precious Alliance down my throat, Madam Longbottom," Charlotte hissed like an angry wild cat. "As far as I am concerned, you are getting the respect you deserve, which is nothing. I have known about the Alliance for nearly two years. Two years. You had a chance to find a way of contacting me, but you didn't bother! You also didn't make your own children come to me on their own initiative, so why should I make things easier for you?"

Charlotte calmed down and she sat down with a sigh. "When I found out about the Alliance, and who made it up, I wondered why none of your children had bothered to say a word. And then I remembered how Granger and Weasley had kept me isolated from the rest of the school, although truthfully it was my fault as well."

"So you admit you didn't want to honour your family's traditions?" Cyrus closed his eyes and sighed at Septimus' stupidity. They were here to see what could be done to ensure the Alliance didn't collapse, although after the events over the last few years it was looking more and more likely the Potters would split from it, and that would certainly be something several of their rivals would love.

Dumbledore had spent years trying to make the Alliance see his philosophy, believing the Wizarding world should not change even a tiny bit. In truth, Dumbledore didn't need to do anything to the Alliance to make that happen, not since he had a significant power base in the Ministry, but the wily old fool would love to see the Alliance fall to pieces.

Thinking of the Ministry also made Cyrus think about Fudge, and how the little cretin would love to see the Alliance go, even if he had no idea what would happen if that occurred. Fudge had grown increasingly arrogant over the years since he had risen to power, now he believed there was nothing he couldn't do, blissfully missing the fact he listened to Malfoy or Dumbledore.

Cyrus hated the thought of the Alliance falling to pieces, but he had to admit he could see it happening since Charlotte Potter clearly had no problems leaving it, and likely did not care what the repercussions could be.

"Don't you dare put words into my mouth!" Charlotte snapped, her cold expression deepening. "When I found out about the Alliance, I was amazed, especially when I read the charter, that the heirs or heiresses, would standby another if they were attacked. Imagine my reaction since none of your children stood by me when I was accused of attacking other students two years ago; they could have done that, even if my so-called friends told them I wanted nothing to do with them."

Amelia closed her eyes, once more cursing not only the lack of initiative from Susan but this growing trend among Hufflepuffs to only be loyal to Hufflepuffs. It was a trend which had been growing more and more common since the Hufflepuffs were pushed to the bottom of the pecking order in Hogwarts.

"Also, since my name came out in the Goblet, I've seen how families the Potters have been friendly with over the years, hounded me. Surprise surprise, not only did some of your children either join in, but they also didn't standby me. I want to know why, and don't give me that crap saying I haven't respected my family traditions. Answer me now!"

Amelia and Augusta stared at each other in consternation. "I wish we could give you an answer, Miss Potter," Amelia whispered, thinking about everything she had learnt from Susan about the nightmare that had unfolded this year. "Susan believed that what was going on, being school stuff, as she phrased it, wasn't anything serious and that you would forgive everyone. I didn't understand the logic then since Hogwarts is a place where children forge alliances and friendships, and what happens during your time there can shape your perceptions of others. Susan should have been aware of that, but it's clear she isn't."

Charlotte just stared at her. "What was she thinking when she thought this," she pointed at her covered eye, "and destroyed my eye?"

Amelia sighed. "She acted out of anger," she said simply, choosing not to defend her niece in this case since Susan had placed the Alliance in jeopardy and also threatened a personal friendship with the other family. "The spell she used was magnified by the anger she was feeling."

"I can understand that," Charlotte said, "but if you think I am going to forgive or forget, then you need to see someone. I can tell you, I won't be forgiving anything. I have already called in the loans my family has provided over the years, and I am going to withdraw my family's support from this Alliance.'

"You can't-!" Septimus shouted.

"You don't know what you're doing, you would be condemning your children to disgrace!" Augusta shrilled.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "No they won't. I've read the contract and the bylaws. All families can withdraw without threat of reprisals. It was sworn into the Alliance charter, so you stop trying to intimidate me, Madam Longbottom. In any case, my decision was pre-ordained. I wanted to speak to you all so then I can get answers about why I should have anything to do with the Alliance when you have never done anything for me."

Charlotte went to the cabinet and pulled out a pensieve and a number of glass bottles filled with glowing memories.

"What are those?" Cyrus whispered.

Charlotte smiled, showing her white teeth. Everyone looking at her wished she wouldn't smile like that. It made them feel as if they were tasty morsels about to be eaten by a wild beast. "Oh, I am sure you will find them enlightening," she smiled, "and why I have no problem breaking ties with the British Magical Community."

Ten minutes later, the whole group were escorted out by the teenager. The women were crying as the memories they had seen of Charlotte being whipped by a belt, starved, shoved into a tiny cupboard before her time on the streets where she had to encounter terrifying muggle predators who preyed on the vulnerable tried to kill the innocent little girl who'd become hardened as the years had passed.

Cyrus and Septimus were also affected and shaken by the memories, especially since Charlotte had said to them as soon they'd come out of the pensieve that if they had cared so much about the Alliance then they would have made sure Albus Dumbledore had never interfered as much as he had and made sure she was given to her muggle relatives, who were clearly not the right guardians. Which was an understatement. It wouldn't be until later that Cyrus and Amelia would ask themselves how Charlotte had escaped from the Dursleys, but since Charlotte would refuse later communications with them, it was virtually impossible for them to find out.

XXX

"I can't believe we haven't seen her yet!" Ron Weasley was saying loudly to anyone who'd listen to him, but since his voice was so loud it carried all the way to the doors and the Head table, it was impossible for them not to hear him.

Neville sighed as he played with his lunch, far from Weasley as possible. His mind was fixed on the meeting his grandmother was having with Charlotte and the other Heads of the Alliance. He hoped it went well, and that Charlotte would forgive them all, but truthfully he had his doubts since Charlotte seemed to be burning all her ties with Magical Britain. Neville had to admit he had never really did anything for Charlotte, and what made it worse was the girl had been nothing but nice to him. As a result of what had happened with Susan, it had really hit home for Neville the seriousness of what could happen.

"I don't get it," Ron yakked on. "She must know she's allowed back into Gryffindor-."

Hermione Granger tuned the idiot out while she read the newspapers her parents had sent to her since there was a headline which she was studying with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Ron had already gotten himself in detention with Filch for not being in lessons, and McGonagall wasn't going to get him out. She wasn't going to say or do anything either, especially since Ron had developed this obsession with Charlotte, saying he was going to invite her to the announced Yule Ball, how he was going to date her, how he was going to let her back into Gryffindor, and how he was going to marry her. The way he said it made her worry, since he was verging on obsessive, but Hermione had no doubt Charlotte would either avoid him, or she would curse him. Looking back on their relationship, which they had destroyed unthinkingly, Hermione could honestly say Charlotte didn't really give Ron the time of day even if the redhead's interest in her was obvious although Charlotte was repelled by Ron's greed and general manner.

And that was before you took into account what he had tried to do with Nightstar.

Hermione had been horrified Ron would do something like that, and she had been on the verge of stopping him since she could see him doing the same thing to Crookshanks, especially since he tried snapping Nightstars' neck. The frightened yowls from the cat who was innocent and hadn't done anything wrong except being Charlotte's cat, which in Ron's caveman mind made her guilty, would haunt her for a long time.

Had Ron honestly forgotten how Charlotte had reacted to Nightstar's petrification in second year? Charlotte had gone ballistic when her beloved cat had been petrified. She hadn't really cared much for the other students who were petrified or were scared they might be next on the Heir of Slytherin's list, especially since they thought she was responsible given she could speak parseltongue. But when Nightstar herself was petrified, Charlotte had gone out hunting for the Heir, and only when Hermione herself had been petrified she had found a decent enough clue.

But Hermione would and could never forget the rage she had seen in her best friend's eye. _No, _she corrected herself, _former best friend. Charlotte is never going to trust me ever again, and after everything that's happened, is it really surprising?_

Hermione sighed with sadness and she flipped through the newspapers. On top of the Daily Prophet subscription she had, Hermione had asked her parents to send her copies of newspapers that had been recently published in the muggle world so she could find out what was going on in the muggle world.

The newspaper was currently open showing a two-page article of the robbery where an opportunistic thief had killed a group of burglars who'd broken into a jewellery store in London before running away and then vanishing. Hermione read the story carefully, but her mind was on other things so it didn't really register. She was about to turn the page when she was distracted for a second when she had to answer someone's question.

Once she answered it, she turned back to the article and for the first time she caught sight of the murderer who'd stolen the jewellery the other burglars had taken and she went still when she saw for herself the picture.

The criminal had looked up at a nearby CCTV camera, and while their features were masked by the hood of the hoodie they were wearing and was very baggy like their trousers which made it virtually impossible to tell if the criminal was either man or woman. The hood made it just as hard, but the criminal - Hermione had no idea if the criminal had only looked up casually or deliberately, but they had made a mistake but with that hood it made it even harder to tell who they were - was wearing sunglasses in the dead of night.

Hermione looked closely at the sunglasses and the shape of the face that was visible. She checked her watch. She didn't have the time to head back to her dorm and take a look, but she was convinced - really convinced - her theory was right.

"Hermione, come on."

Suddenly she felt a hand grip her shoulder and Hermione sighed, trying to resist the urge to hex the idiot when she heard Ron's grating voice. Why was it now Charlotte was not going to trust or forgive them anymore, Ron constantly felt the need to boss her around?

She stood up, shaking off Ron's hand before she packed her newspapers up.

Ron watched her, looking at the newspapers in disgust. "I don't know why you bother, Herms. We're in the magical world, why bother with muggle stuff?"

Hermione bit her lip before she walked out of the hall with the others. _Why did Dumbledore convince me to spy on someone who, despite everything, was nicer than anyone could have hoped? Why did he have to choose this joke of a human being to do the job? _

XXX

Later on, at lunch break, Hermione quickly ate something before she headed up to the dorm and she pulled out a stash of Daily Prophet copies that she used for Crookshanks' cat-litter tray. She pulled out the file she had prepared and opened it. Pictures of Charlotte shortly after she had lost her eye jumped out at her.

Hermione had prepared the file to remind her of what had been lost, what she had thrown away. She pushed aside her revulsion when she saw the picture showing Charlotte opening up her eye cavity, and she found what she was looking for. A complete picture of Charlotte with the sunglasses on before the First Task. Picking up her schoolbag, Hermione pulled out newspaper with the picture of the criminal forward and she laid down the other photograph next to it and she traced the outline of the sunglasses on Charlotte's face and then she compared them to the sunglasses from the muggle newspaper.

They were virtually identical.

After reading through the article again, noting how the criminal had shot up the police cars and then they'd escaped down an alleyway. The police had searched through all the bins in case they had made the cliche decision of hiding in bins, but they had turned up nothing. Hermione leaned back, biting her lip thoughtfully. Despite her immediate theory magic had been used by the criminal, Hermione did not have any proof. All she had was a suspicion, but it looked good.

And yet she was sure the criminal was Charlotte.

Hermione let out a slow, dragging breath. She couldn't recall a time where she had ever seen the girl steal anything before, but she had heard last year how girls in Ravenclaw and Slytherin had reported things going missing. She knew Charlotte knew precisely where the Slytherin common room was, thanks to that blunder with the Polyjuice potion Dumbledore had forced her to make after the old wizard had hinted it could have been Malfoy.

But the Ravenclaw dorms, no chance.

Still, she knew better than to underestimate Charlotte. She was cunning, and when she put her mind into achieving something, she would give it her all. In any case, she recalled how Charlotte had handled that grappling hook in the First task. She had done it masterfully as if she had done it before, although why she had, Hermione didn't know since she could have flown over the forest unless the whole thing was to trick the audience into thinking she had something else planned. And what about that winch? Where would she have gotten it, ASDA?

But why would she do this? Had her living on the streets in London made her this way?

Hermione rubbed her face, looking down at the pictures. She could take these pictures to Professor Dumbledore, see what he could do-

No.

She decided against it. She knew she had betrayed Charlotte terribly these years, and she knew it would be a remote chance if the girl ever forgave her. But she wasn't going to betray her again.

Let Dumbledore be damned.


	11. Chapter 11 Yule woes

I still down own Harry Potter. I hope you enjoyed what I did with the Alliance; I wanted Charlotte to do what Dumbledore wanted in that case because she is going to leave Magical Britain later and find her own way in life.

Please let me know what you think.

* * *

The Hell of Fourth Year.

"You did a good job today, Charlotte," Gryffindor complimented, looking amusedly down at the exhausted young witch who was standing on shaking legs while looking like she would fall even at the smallest pressure from exhaustion.

Charlotte was too busy panting to speak. Honestly, while she enjoyed these sessions with the Founders - they might have been ghosts, spirits, something along those lines, but they were as capable as any other witch or wizard - she was amazed by the level they had attained years ago. She knew thanks to their talks only a few witches and wizards even bothered training themselves up to similar levels.

Charlotte knew if she continued on the rate she was going she would easily near the levels of both Dumbledore and Voldemort without any problem, and the prospect was both frightening and exhilarating. Charlotte liked feeling powerful and confident in her abilities and at first, it had simply been a matter of self-preservation because of the Tournament, but as time had passed and she had learnt duelling magic from Gryffindor, healing magic from Hufflepuff, obscure spells from Ravenclaw which had added to her repertoire magnificently while at the same time Slytherin himself taught her parselmagic.

All four of the Founders had taken it upon themselves to speak to Charlotte about different matters and had helped to teach her things about magic that bypassed everything currently learned at Hogwarts. She especially loved her time with Slytherin since, ironically, he was the only Founder who seemed to look at the world differently much like she had.

Hufflepuff came over and with a flick of her wand, she gave Charlotte a bottle of water. Charlotte took it instantly and downed a huge gulp, tasting the cool refreshing water along with a potion she identified as a pepper-up potion. As soon as she swallowed the potion the magic did its work, and she felt her strength return.

"You look like you enjoyed that," Helga commented with a chuckle.

"I did. Hurray for pepper-up potions," Charlotte chuckled herself. "So what now?"

Smiling at her dedication Gryffindor replied, "Actually Charlotte, you can now have the rest of the day off. However, don't think I won't go easy on you next time," he added in warning, "I want to build your magical strength up to better take the spell chains."

Charlotte nodded. "Okay."

"However, for now," Slytherin said as he approached with Gryffindor stepping to the side while Salazar came closer so Charlotte could give the other Founder her undivided attention, "there is a collection of books in a secret library we set up for our descendants so they would know what we knew."

"I thought all knowledge would have been in a chamber, like the Chamber of Secrets," Charlotte commented.

"There is, and you are right; all four of us had libraries of our own containing scrolls and books we'd either collected or written over the years detailing our studies of branches of magic which we were experts in, but the knowledge in the library also contains our personal observations. Diaries, essentially," Slytherin replied. "We have diaries going back years, speaking of our greatest triumphs and failures and what happened afterwards."

"We think it might help you if you have our insights and come back to us, we can help you in those areas," Hufflepuff explained.

"I see. So, instead of just piling all of your knowledge onto me, you're giving me the opportunity to look at your diaries and coming back to you later so you can train me in those areas?"

"That's right," Ravenclaw folded her arms. "For instance, if you look in my diaries and journals, you'll come across references and accounts of my travels to what is now called China, Egypt, or Japan and Central America and Africa, where I encountered many different forms of magic and studied it all before bringing it back here. I travelled for years and years, Charlotte, but if you go into the library and read those diaries, you will also have access to the magics which interest you, and if you come to us then we can help teach you more about them."

Charlotte mulled it over and nodded. "I like the sound of that," she smiled.

"We thought you might," Slytherin smirked back before he became more serious. "I will send you the directions to the library, Charlotte if you would please lower your mental barriers…."

Charlotte did as she was told, although she kept herself vigilant as always when she felt the map being transferred into her mind. Once Slytherin retracted the probe she reinforced her occlumency barriers.

Slytherin smiled. "Take care," he said.

XXX

After getting Dobby to take her back to the mill so she could shower and get a change of clothes which consisted of a black hoodie covering a purple shirt, a red-white-black checked plaid skirt and black stockings and her running shoes, Charlotte returned to the school - she knew she could have just changed in Hogwarts, but the discovery of the Founders was a major secret she wanted to keep, and she didn't want anyone else cottoning on the help she had was coming from the school itself - and headed off in search of the library.

While it was surprising the Founders had decided to create a separate library where all of their lives were documented year after year instead of simply placing the knowledge in their own Chambers, Charlotte spent a couple of minutes thinking about it as she walked through the corridors of the school, nodding politely to the students of Hogwarts itself as well as Durmstrang and Beauxbatons although she kept on her guard; while she had shown off just how violent she could be during the First Task, she knew there were probably a few students who would try to be daring.

Anyway, as she walked through the corridors, following the map in her mind, Charlotte wondered if the Founders had wanted to show a united front. Instead of just having separate Chambers, the descendants would find just one place where all of the knowledge of their ancestors and their personal accounts in a room where the other Founders would have kept their knowledge. A meeting place where they would be equals.

_A far cry from today, _she thought to herself gloomily, _today the Houses are so insular, friendships between the Houses are so rare and infrequent they may as well have been other countries. _

As she was turning the other corridor, she ran into someone. Charlotte gasped a little at the impact and she pulled away, an instant apology on her lips, but then she saw who it was.

It was Professor McGonagall, and she was looking stunned at the sight of Charlotte, who just stared at her for a long moment. A long sigh left her lips; she wasn't in the mood to speak to any of the useless or bullying teachers in the castle, not right now, not when she was in a good mood.

"Excuse me," she muttered and stepped around her former Head of House, but unfortunately McGonagall wouldn't let her go, not that easily.

"Wait!" McGonagall placed a hand to her mouth when it came out too loud, louder than she'd intended, but it was enough to attract Charlotte's attention, and the girl turned around just as the Transfiguration professor was pulling herself together. "Please, Charlotte, don't go. I…I need to speak to you."

McGonagall looked at the girl for a moment, wishing she could see the brilliant emerald of her eyes, both of them, even though one of them was now gone forever and were now covered by a pair of sunglasses. _Why didn't I say something? Why did I let Albus manipulate me? How could I have done this to a girl who was once a sweet baby, who even then was being manipulated by Dumbledore?_

Minerva was snapped out of her brief thoughts when Charlotte replied in a cold voice that made the old witch go cold herself since it was clear this conversation would be the equivalent of two strangers speaking together.

"I have nothing I want to speak to you with, Professor. Why don't you speak with a Gryffindor, you know the House you head up? Just deal with them. I'll be out of your hair soon. I am a shame to your House, right?" a rather cruel, sarcastic smile crossed Charlotte's face.

A million curses ran through Minerva's head as she thought about the morons she was forced to be Head of House too, although she wasn't a particularly good one since one of the students she had been looking forward to having had been hounded out of the House of Gryffindor by a bunch of idiots who simply did not deserve to belong there. Minerva felt her eyes beginning to sting with tears. One of the children she had wanted to see in Hogwarts, and what had she done?

She had, in an attempt to appear impartial, to show no favouritism, instead of being approachable become unapproachable. And now, she had completely destroyed every chance she could have had in forming a worthwhile relationship with Charlotte.

"I never believed that," she said quietly.

"Really?" Scornful surprise crept through Charlotte's tone while she folded her arms before saying sarcastically, "Oh yeah, I remember you standing up in front of the fucking lions you _claim to cherish _and stopping them from casting me out! Or what about when they were harassing me? Or were the death threats I received back in my second year where everyone thought I was the Heir of Slytherin done with your approval since you apparently believed I was guilty."

Minerva took a deep breath as the pain from the reminder of that horrible year haunted her, but she was horrified by the mention of death threats. "I never knew about the threats, Charlotte," she said, "and as for believing you were the Heir of Slytherin, I never believed you were."

"Then why was it whenever you had me in your class you would deride everything about me? I seem to remember you making snide comments about parseltongue. And how about the way you looked at me as if you were disgusted to be near me after that bastard Finch-Fletchley was petrified, I saw the look in your face and I can tell when people are disgusted by me. I'm not stupid, Professor; I had to live with a family of disgusting animals who looked at me the same way."

Minerva looked down in shame. She couldn't say anything about the accusation since it was true. She had derided parseltongue, and had even spoken about the branch of magic with disgust, and had even dropped little tidbits of its dark history. Worse, she had even dropped little insults like "Lily and James would be ashamed," things like that once or twice. It was no wonder Charlotte went berserk and brutally cursed half of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff when Nightstar had been petrified. Even Ginny Weasley had been injured when she was pulled out of the Chamber of Secrets.

It wasn't surprising in the least Charlotte had lost respect for the teachers, for her. Realising this was neither the time nor the place to get into a fight, and that she needed to talk about the Tournament with the girl, she lifted her head. "I will never be able to make up for what I did," she whispered, "and if it takes me the rest of my life to make up for my mistakes, I will. But for now, I need to speak to you, it's about the Tournament."

"Don't waste your time. After this year, I doubt we'll ever meet again," Charlotte sighed. "Alright," she said after a moment. "Lead the way."

Grateful and yet surprised the girl was giving her the chance to speak, Minerva nodded and walked off in the direction of her office. Occasionally she would look over her shoulder to mentally appraise the teenager. Minerva was pleased to see Charlotte appeared to be healthy, indeed she seemed taller and fitter than she had appeared, and although the older witch wasn't entirely approving of some of the girl's choice of clothes, she was grateful to see that the choice did at least show Charlotte was taking care of herself.

As they walked through the corridors, it suddenly occurred to her that Dumbledore would eventually learn Charlotte was moving openly through the castle and he would want to speak with her. Minerva had been at the school long enough to know the Headmaster could see what was going on thanks to the portraits, it was almost certain the headmaster knew she was walking around the castle by now. He had given standing orders that Charlotte was to be escorted to his office so they could have a talk, but Minerva had no intention of doing that; she knew nothing Albus would say to the girl would help, in any case, she doubted Dumbledore would use his common sense, and would only make things worse.

Minerva sighed and wondered when her life had become so complicated…Anyway, she didn't have time to dwell too much on the subject when she flicked her wand at the door of her office, using her own password to unlock the door and they went inside. Once inside Minerva closed the door, and the two witches sat down. It occurred to Minerva to offer the younger witch something to drink but she decided against it; she had seen the temper Charlotte had, especially how she had retaliated against the bullying in her second year, and she didn't want it thrown in her face, in her office.

In any case, Charlotte would likely see it as a sign of friendship, of the sort of relationship Minerva had enjoyed with Lily and James and had foolishly thrown the opportunity of having the same type of relationship with their daughter away simply because she decided to be neutral and impartial in the school.

Minerva licked her lips and wondered where she should begin. There were so many things she would love to say to the girl to make up for the lack of help she'd given her over the years, starting from when she had stood near Dumbledore and had allowed him to place an innocent child on a doorstep in the dead of night after she'd lost everyone who'd loved her.

"The Tournament, Professor?" Charlotte prompted.

Minerva winced. She knew now there was no way the girl was ever going to stay here and talk with her about anything else. "Charlotte….I am aware you have more than enough reasons to be…angry with Hogwarts-," she began, stumbling over the right word to describe Charlotte's feelings, but the girl interrupted her instantly.

"Wow! You finally show off your brains, and I thought they'd atrophied in your skull. I am so impressed. How long did it take for you to reach that oh so logical conclusion, mm? With that one statement you have finally proven that the mastery you have in Transfiguration is well deserved and that you have some intelligence at last," Charlotte's voice was scornful as each word came out so sarcastically biting Minerva actually flinched and wished she was anywhere else at that minute. "You finally get it, do you? Second-year all over again. Only instead of just being threatened outright, and poisoned by a venomous magical creature, I lose my fucking eye. What's next, Professor? I don't know…I've got…well, a heart. I could always have that lopped out of my chest. Or, how about my stomach? It's not as if I need that, right, especially since the entire Wizarding World seem to enjoy taking everything from me until I have nothing?"

The older witch winced, realising from Charlotte's perspective all the teachers and the students seemed to take and take and take from the girl until she had nothing left. She had never thought of it like that, but while it disgusted her the rest of her fellow witches and wizards enjoyed hurting this orphaned girl more and more, she didn't want to dwell on it just now Trying desperately to regain her composure and get the conversation to the track she wanted, Minerva carried on, "The reason I wanted to speak to you was because of the Yule Ball."

"A what?" Charlotte asked.

"The Yule Ball. It's a Ministry sponsored event. They want to try to promote international relations. All the Champions are meant to be there."

"And you want me to take part as well. Why? I have disowned Hogwarts as my school, and I am only in this to represent my family. Why am I being included?"

Minerva sighed mentally as she said the rehearsed words and she hoped the girl didn't lose her temper. "I'm sorry, Charlotte. It's a tradition and you need to go."

"What am I supposed to do?"

Taking that as a good sign although she knew she would need to go on carefully, Minerva went on, "There is going to be a dance, and all the Champions are expected to open the ball with their chosen dates."

Charlotte groaned.

Minerva looked at her sympathetically. She guessed Charlotte didn't like this because of the way she had been treated so far. She hesitated with the next bit, knowing Charlotte would lose her temper if she mentioned who Albus had in mind for her date. "I'm afraid to say the Headmaster, knowing you might have…trouble with finding someone for the Ball has chosen someone already."

The look Charlotte sent her was annoyed, even she could see that with those sunglasses covering her remaining eye. "Does this person happen to be my age physically, has red hair, and yet have all the charm of a dog turd and the manners of a pig?"

Minerva nodded. "I didn't want Ronald Weasley to be your partner, Charlotte-."

"And he bloody well won't be, I can promise you that. No-one is going to press me on the matter. If you do then I will simply not go, and I will make sure everyone understands why, especially since the Daily Prophet have realised the depths of their mistake," Charlotte added with a cruel smile.

Minerva swallowed, wondering if this was a trait inherent in Charlotte's personality or if it had just entered it later on in her life. The news Charlotte actually owned more shares in the newspaper than the Ministry itself had caused a shock, but when she read the article the girl had withdrawn her support and the editors office had run a frantic letter of apology, stating they'd gone as far as terminating Rita Skeeter's employment, Minerva had wondered how far Charlotte was going to go. "As far as I am concerned, Charlotte, you can go with whomever you wish. It isn't my business. I don't care who you go with so long as you are happy. Unfortunately, Albus doesn't share my beliefs."

"Dumbledore has meddled in my life long enough and I have suffered for it. I don't know what made him think I would forgive Weasley especially after what he nearly did to my cat, but that waste of flesh has made it his life's mission to make my life hell this year. I am not going to dance with him."

"Dumbledore will try to force the issue," McGonagall pointed out.

The scowl on Charlotte's face was vicious. "If the old bastard tries to force the issue, then I will simply not attend," she said.

McGonagall nodded, feeling the dull ache in her temples already, but she decided to just simply hope Charlotte went away and found someone so then Albus wouldn't play his deluded games.

The door opened and she looked up in annoyance, although it turned into shock when she saw Albus himself waltz into the room with his gaudy robes acting like he owned the place with that infuriating manner of his. The old Headmaster's expression brightened with joy when he saw Charlotte.

"Ah, Charlotte my dear girl. I am delighted you are here to meet with me," the old wizard said in delight.

Charlotte glared at McGonagall, tilting her head. _Did you know he'd do this?_

McGonagall shook her head. _No. _

The teenage witch sighed and lifted her head. "What do you want?" she asked the old wizard, making it clear she was not happy to see him.

"Why, to speak with you of course!" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, inwardly he was frustrated because with the sunglasses on he couldn't get any idea of what Charlotte was thinking.

"What if I don't want to speak with you, did that not occur to you?" Charlotte asked.

Dumbledore waved a hand. "There is no need to be childish, my dear girl-."

"Childish? What's so childish about wanting to be left alone so other parts of my anatomy don't get destroyed because the people who are supposed to be protecting you have a plan in mind which is so badly thought through, and only help the bullies?" Charlotte countered, looking at Dumbledore with contempt; while she loved her sunglasses and what they did for her eyesight, she wished she still had the capacity to show emotion like she'd been able to, but she knew it would be wasted on Dumbledore, which only gave credence the old wizard was high on drugs and his brain periodically went around and around the solar system until everyone got dizzy.

To her surprise, Dumbledore's manner became more solemn. _Hello? _she thought, not fooled one moment. _What's the sly old twat after now?_

"Charlotte, I know I have made a grievous mistake. I should have announced to the school at large you hadn't put your name into the Goblet of Fire. It was a foolish decision, and believe me it is one I will always regret," Dumbledore said, putting in some solemn sadness into his usual grandfatherly persona.

But Charlotte was not fooled. This reply was too pat, too rehearsed; she had known since that conversation with Sirius before she'd vanished the mirror Dumbledore had some scheme in mind, but after giving it some thought with the Founders, namely Slytherin, they'd agreed Dumbledore had deliberately made sure she wasn't proven innocent and was seen as guilty because he wanted to draw out whoever was behind the whole thing. The thought of being used as nothing more than bait was infuriating, but there was nothing about it she could do. Not now. It was just another check against the old wizard as far as she was concerned.

"Bollocks," she said crassly, deciding to be blunt and to make it clear she wasn't going to play this game by his rules. Dumbledore reared back as if he'd been slapped. "You don't regret what you did initially, you just regret the fact it blew up in your face. In fact, you would probably do it again, especially if you think your _Greater Good _warrants it, right?"

Dumbledore glared down at her. "You will not address me in that manner, Charlotte-!"

"Or what? You'll put me in detention? I'm not your student anymore, for which I am grateful," Charlotte glared at him. "In any case, even without me not being a student of your school anymore, I would still speak in that manner to you. Now, what do I want? I've got better things to do with my time than spend any length of time in your presence."

Minerva glanced at Albus. She hadn't seen him this taken aback by someone speaking back to him before, and she was interested in what he would do. She knew he wouldn't argue with Charlotte, he would know it was a waste of time when he had so much to say to her.

Dumbledore needed all of his skills in occlumency not to lose his temper. After a few seconds of using the silence to steady himself and to move on and hopefully get through to Charlotte, he realised it was not a good idea to speak to the girl about the events surrounding the Goblet of Fire.

"Professor McGonagall has told you about the Yule Ball, I take it?" he asked, although both witches knew this was an attempt to change the subject.

Charlotte nodded. "Yes, she did," she replied, grinding each syllable out. "I've already told her I won't be going with Ronald Weasley."

Dumbledore once more had to lock down his emotions with his occlumency skill; why was it teenagers were so quick to argue? And why in the name of Merlin and Morgana, of all the teenagers he had to deal with at the moment, did it have to be _this_ one?

"I know that you and Ronald have had your disagreements, my dear, but you must forgive him. Mr Weasley is a hotheaded young man who doesn't understand actions have consequences," he said.

"You've got that right," Charlotte folded her arms, unsurprised when her own occlumency barriers filtered out the magic lacing Dumbledore's voice; she sighed mentally since this was the dozenth (she'd lost count in truth of how often Dumbledore used this mind-control method, but it was still frustrating) time or so the old wizard had tried making her see things from his point of view. "Look, Professor; I have never liked Ronald Weasley. He's a pig, and when I found him trying to kill my cat, I had had enough. He'd already kicked her a few times, deliberately stepped on her tail, and no matter how many times I hexed him to stop, he continued to harass her and complained even if Nightstar wasn't around. You can claim he is repentant, but I don't believe you."

"Maybe if you spoke to him Charlotte, then you will see he is repentant," Dumbledore went on.

"No, I refuse," Charlotte replied, her hand reaching for the handle of one of her wands.

She had no idea if she could actually _defeat _Dumbledore at her current level. In truth, she didn't want to fight the old man ever since she would likely have to dig down into her growing repertoire, but if she did face him in a fight, then he would likely consider her to be the next Voldemort and that was something she didn't want.

"If I choose to go to the Yule Ball it will be on my terms, not yours. I don't want you in my life anymore; I think you've done enough damage, and if you try to push Weasley into becoming my date, then you can have the joy of standing up posing for a picture for the Daily Prophet, while I explain to the whole country why I didn't attend," Charlotte handed him her ultimatum.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Resorting to blackmail and refusing to go to a Ministry sponsored event? Your parents would be ashamed of your choices-."

"ALBUS!" Minerva shouted, furious with the low emotional blow Dumbledore had just delivered. She screamed in shock when Charlotte punched Dumbledore in the jaw with enough force to break it. And it did.

The blow sent the old wizard to the ground, nursing his broken jaw after the pain had exploded in his mouth. Dumbledore was about to stand up when he felt a pair of hands flip him over and he was thrown onto his back. Everything happened so fast and then he suddenly felt something pressing down hard in his throat, choking him.

Albus reached out his hands and he felt the object pressing down into his throat before he realised what it was. It was a foot. The pressure it was exerting into his throat was blocking off some of the air from his head into his lungs, so it made it hard for the old man to concentrate, but somehow he was able to push that aside when he heard Charlotte's voice.

"Emotional blackmail, using the parents who fought in _your _war?" Charlotte was furious, and she smirked as she pushed the heel of her shoe deeper into Dumbledore's neck. "Would my parents have wanted me to be pushed into this hell? Would they have wanted me to live in an abusive home with a family of filthy muggles? Would they have wanted some little bitch to slash my eye? You are under the mistaken impression I actually care what they would have thought; I love my parents, but that doesn't mean I am going to be a slave to their memories."

Dumbledore was having trouble concentrating from the lack of air, and he choked desperately to get some air into his lungs before he died of suffocation. But somehow he was able to focus his eyes through the pain in his broken jaw and his lack of air to focus on Charlotte who was looming over him, looking down at him with an expression of coldness it frightened him.

He had always been frightened of this, of her going dark; one of the reasons why he had allowed her mistreatment at Privet Drive was so then her childhood would mirror Tom Riddle's own upbringing. But he had always been worried the girl would be too much like Riddle, although he had known it was a risk. With the Horcrux in her scar, there had been the possibility of whatever Lily had done would break down, and the soul fragment would take over Charlotte's body, destroying her soul while having access to her magic. It had been a relief it hadn't, but Albus had still kept watch over her, especially since she had a dark side to her nature he didn't like although it never occurred to him that side of her nature only came out when she was threatened, or felt she was being threatened.

Albus tried to wriggle out desperately, instinctively he even tried to physically move Charlotte's foot from his chest without reaching for his wand - when he would look back on the incident he would regret it, but he had been acting on instinct at the time even though he didn't want to harm her. But still at the same time, he would lament not getting her to Poppy so she could get a replacement eye, and then he would be free to work on her personality.

Charlotte lifted her foot. "Stay away from me. And don't you ever use my parents like that again; I've already had to deal with the Ministry, I don't need to deal with you."

"What do you mean, deal with the Ministry?" McGonagall asked, making Charlotte turn to her. The Transfiguration teacher was holding out her wand, but it was clear to Charlotte the older witch had no idea what to do; physical violence was an unknown in the magical world since it was considered beneath them.

"You mean he never told you?" Charlotte sent a glance down at Dumbledore in mock confusion before looking back up at the older witch. "He never told you how the Ministry, in its infinite wisdom, bulldozed that house, taking everything belonging to my parents and locking it away, with the excuse they were going to place it in a museum?"

Dumbledore stood up shakily, wincing as the lack of air caught up with him. "The Ministry wanted to uphold public morale," he said, but the words passing through his jaw sounded slurred rather than clear.

"My parents belongings belong to me, and I had the right to them. In any case, there were no plans for a museum; that was just another lie on Fudge's part; I don't know what he had in mind, but it doesn't matter now. I've got them back in my possession," Charlotte replied, "and if you think you're going to have any say in my parents possessions, then I punch you again."

Dumbledore closed his eyes to muster his patience and reinforce his occlumency again. "Charlotte, Ronald is from a light family. You must go with him," he tried again.

Charlotte closed her eyes in irritation. This again…

"Light? You think he's Light? And why aren't you listening to me? I am not going with Weasley. I don't even know if I am going, and besides, why is Weasley the only person you have in mind? There are other boys in this school, and truthfully I don't care about the affiliation between Light and Dark. It sounds like something out of a kids program," Charlotte retorted, although truthfully she knew precisely why Dumbledore was pushing Weasley and her together.

Dumbledore had conspired with Molly Weasley to have her and Ron married so then he would have a share of her family fortune. The fact he would go that far disgusted her no end, and she had the proof already locked up in her windmill, but until she was ready it wasn't going to leave.

She sighed and shook her head.

She was tired of this, and she was too angry to really care about going on and finding the library the Founders had told her about. She needed time to herself so she could think straight once more.

"I'm not fighting anymore with you on this subject, Dumbledore," she said as she crossed the room. "I am tired of saying something with you only for it to pass through one ear and then out of the other without you taking anything on board. I've already told you I am not going with Weasley and why, but I'm no longer going to waste any more time and energy explaining it to you. I am a teenager, I don't want to suddenly die of old age telling you over and over again about my decisions. And using my parents…," she just shook her head and walked out of the room.

The moment she was out of the room Dumbledore collapsed into a chair and nursed his jaw. It was aching and while he knew some healing spells, he would need Poppy to help him.

Minerva placed her hands on her desk and shook her head. "Even I didn't know you'd sink that low," she commented bitingly.

Dumbledore sighed, but with the pain in his jaw it came out as a groaned gurgle. "Minerva-," he began, but she interrupted him.

"No! How dare you use the memory of two good people for your schemes!" Minerva spat, knowing if she let him speak he would say something which would twist her perspective. "It's bad enough you made this whole mess, but now you are using their memory to make their daughter go to some stupid Ball that Fudge had only organised to bolster his ratings on the international stage. What are you going to say next, that they would have wanted their child in this Tournament? They wouldn't and you know it, but you would still say it regardless. Just get out, Albus, I want you out of my office."

Dumbledore stood up again and walked to the fireplace, knowing he could command the fire with his thoughts rather than vocally. He could see Minerva was very angry about what he had said and he was already cursing himself for his own stupidity, but he decided to come back and make her see reason later.

At the same time, he might be able to make her see they couldn't let Charlotte turn to the dark side with the amount of anger she was exhibiting right now.

So why did he feel like he was fighting a losing battle?


	12. Chapter 12 Yule Date

Disclaimer - I don't own Harry Potter.

Please let me know what you think.

* * *

The Hell of Fourth Year.

_The bastard…the arrogant, self-righteous, bastard! _Charlotte stalked through the corridors of the school angrily, her mind going over the confrontation she'd just had with the old wizard in McGonagall's office. _My parents died in _his _war, they died because of him, but he doesn't care about that because he doesn't have any scruples if it helps him on his quest for personal recognition. I swear, if he ever does that again, I will murder him!_

Gone was her once good mood, now she was incandescent with rage over what Dumbledore had just done. She doubted the old fool would do anything about it considering his habit of burying everything and keeping it under wraps.

_Why is it everyone in the magical world keeps telling me my parents wouldn't have wanted this, or they wouldn't have wanted that? Everyone does it, and they honestly think I care what _they _would have wanted! I make decisions based on my own choices, not because people tell me a couple of ghosts would have wanted me to do something different. But everyone I've met, adults at least, keep shoving Lily and James Potter's memory into my face; Lucius Malfoy even threatened me after Dobby was freed, but then I promised if we ever met again and he so much as lifted a wand in my face again, I would castrate him while his prick of a son watched. _

Charlotte closed her eyes as she began to feel claustrophobic inside the warren of corridors inside the castle. She needed to get out of here. Now, before someone came and there really would be blood everywhere, but if she could get to the grounds…

The bell rang, making her sigh in irritation. Classes were out, she realised to herself, which meant the students would be coming out in platoons, and she didn't want to deal with them. She looked around the corridors, trying to identify any landmarks so she could pick a way to head out to the grounds where she could be by herself without anyone to bother her.

Unfortunately, it wasn't to be. Charlotte came across a group of Hufflepuffs, among them was Hannah Abbot and Ernie MacMillan. Oh, joy! The moment the group realised she was there, they stiffened, particularly when Charlotte flicked out her wrist and one of her wands appeared in her hand. The sight of one of the wands Charlotte had used to brutal effect in the First Task stilled them. A sadistic grin spread over Charlotte's face when she caught their reaction, and for her own sick amusement she flicked it around like a cat's tail. The Hufflepuffs were so scared they watched it.

"Don't say a word," she ground out. "I'm not looking for a fight, but if you so much as threaten or taunt me, I will be sending your remains to your families in a matchbox. The good old days are gone, if you push me again I'll murder the whole lot of you! Now get out of here!"

The group rushed away. Charlotte sighed and slipped the wand back in its holster. She didn't like being the bully, but she was glad that bunch were scared of her and weren't so arrogant anymore to antagonise her. But as her eyes followed the group of Hufflepuffs, she gritted her teeth together.

She always tried to keep her darker impulses under control most of the time - after she had killed the Dursleys, Charlotte had committed a couple more murders, but the resultant police search had done a lot to drum in the dangers of going too far, and when she had discovered Dumbledore's involvement in so much of the pain in her life and how he had some game in mind for her particularly when he had begun interfering in her education in visible and in invisible ways, she had pushed herself out of sight so he wouldn't notice some of her skills since he would intervene.

While she had sometimes broken that rule, she had gone to a lot of trouble to keep herself from going too crazy. But as she watched the Hufflepuffs as they ran away (she hoped Helga wouldn't have a go at her for what she'd just threatened to do, although that was remote), ignoring the looks she was getting from the rest of the students nearby, Charlotte wished she had lashed out a few times against that bunch of sheep away from her in the past.

She sighed when they were out of sight and she resumed her trek through the castle, keeping her wand exposed so then everyone knew she was armed and ready for anything they threw at her. As she walked through the corridors of the school, passing the students whose crowds were becoming less and less dense as they got to their lessons. But there were still a few students who had yet to get to their classes.

"Charlotte, there you are!" she heard Ron Weasley shout behind her.

Charlotte closed her eyes and stopped and she turned around and shook her head at the sight of the redhead. "What do you want?" she snapped, mentally counting for patience.

"Oh come on," Weasley puffed out his chest in what he probably thought was a macho way. "Don't be like that, Lots," he went on, taking hold of her arm in his own hand. "Professor Dumbledore says I am your date for the Yule Ball."

_Interfering old bastard, _Charlotte cursed Dumbledore in her head before she took a good look at him. Weasley looked too certain of himself, too proud and too confident, and the way his chest was puffed out while he looked so smug the expression itself looked right at home on his face.

Charlotte had seen that expression before on one of the Weasley brothers. Percy had never really been her favourite Weasley, although none of them really were given how much the twins bullied the rest of the students with their pranks, but the older boy's pomposity and smug smarmy demeanour was a big turn off and it made her wonder what was wrong with the collective intelligence of people when a girl like Penelope Clearwater decided to date him.

Still, it was Clearwater's problem, not hers.

But she had never imagined seeing so many of Percy's traits in Ronald and while she had to admit the two were similar when she saw him like this, she also remembered the differences.

One brother was smart and career-driven and wanted to succeed so then he could escape his domineering bitch of a mother, although that seemed to be a trait common to all the Weasley children from what she had gleaned after looking into the minds of the twins, Percy, and even Ginny; Percy and the twins had spent years and years developing their repertoires and skills - while she disliked the twins, she had to admit they were good at what they did - and in Percy's case he had been saving every single coin he could so he could immediately leave the Burrow at the earliest opportunity. She'd seen it in his mind. He had kept the cash in little bags under the floor underneath his bed and he planned on using it to buy or rent a flat as quickly as he could. The Weasley parents knew he had taken little jobs and while they had received a few coins, the majority went into the bags. Charlotte had no doubt he had moved out by now.

The twins and their sister were the same, they may love their mother although it was more tolerance than anything else. They were just biding their time so they could wave her goodbye and live life the way they wanted. Charlotte could respect them for that given what she had seen of the woman herself.

What that in itself said about the relationship with Molly Weasley and her kids was amazing.

In contrast, Ron Weasley didn't want to leave his mother. He wanted to be this, he wanted to be that, just so long as he was better than all of his siblings, but he simply refused to do anything to make himself better.

It was a crazy paradox.

But truthfully if Ron Weasley ended up becoming a couch potato or some magical equivalent of a slob, why would it be her problem?

In the meantime, she had something else on her mind.

_When did Dumbledore come up with the idea to put me with this pretence of humanity for something sponsored by the Ministry? My bet is Weasley was told recently._

"Well, Lots, aren't you happy?" Weasley had a smug grin on his face; Charlotte wished he wouldn't grin or smile since not only did he resemble Percy, she could see bits of food in-between his teeth. That was bad enough and made her sick, but what annoyed her the most was how Weasley was using that stupid nickname. She had been called Lottie when she had been a kid, and she had been sick of it, especially when she had been made fun of. Charlotte preferred her full first name, but Char, Chaz, or Charley. She had no doubt Weasley didn't even know or realise there was no possibility of them ever getting together although realistically she wouldn't have gone out with this piggish bastard.

How many times had she gone to the trouble of spelling it out clearly for the moron she hated the nickname? Charlotte had no idea herself, although since she had done it back to back all year last year, she was unsurprised she had lost count.

"No, I'm not," she replied bluntly.

Weasley's smug smile faded. "What do you mean?!" he tightened his grip on her arm.

"I am not going with you. I don't care what Dumbledore told you was going to happen when he came up with this stupid plan to try to get us together," she sneered at the word, "But I am not going with you. I don't even know if I'm going to go."

"What do you mean you dunno if you're gonna go? You have to go!" Weasley shrieked, tightening his grip on her arm. Charlotte needed to use all of her self control not to react as the grip became painful. Just a few more seconds.

"Why, because the Ministry wants me to? Because Dumbledore wants me to?"

"Yeah! You're representing Hogwarts. You need to go. Oh, and you can come to Gryffindor again!" Weasley added the afterthought.

Charlotte shook her head. "Grammatical issues aside since you just said _"you can come to Gryffindor again" _when instead you should have said "_you can return to Gryffindor" _did you never think I don't want to go anywhere near that stupid tower again? As for representing Hogwarts, I'm not a student here anymore, and I really don't care about Hogwarts anymore."

"What?! How could you have left Hogwarts? Or Gryffindor? You brought honour to the House, and I say you can come back!" Weasley shouted in her face as he leaned closer in a foolish attempt to intimidate her. Charlotte closed her eyes as she felt the spittle land on her skin, and she only just restrained the urge to kill the idiot. But the hand clenched around her arm made her wince as Weasley squeezed tighter in his anger.

A burst of light slammed out of Charlotte's wand and hit Weasley in the chest with the force of a cannonball and propelled him down the corridor before he skidded to a halt against the wall. Weasley wheezed while he winced in pain when his head collided with the wall. Charlotte walked down the corridor slowly towards the fallen redhead, wondering to herself how long she would have before someone turned up to investigate.

The pair of them had made a lot of noise. Weasley had done a lot of shouting, and anyone nearby would have heard the commotion. Besides that, while Dumbledore was likely in the Hospital Wing, the portraits would have informed one of the teachers in place of the Headmaster, and one of them was probably on their way. If that was the case Charlotte did not want to be here.

She walked closer to Weasley and levelled her wand at his prone body. But so far all Weasley seemed to be doing was moaning on the ground; she didn't know if he was doing it because he was genuinely hurt or doing it out of self-pity, or even both.

She glared down at the pathetic wizard in front of her and patiently waited for him to get some semblance of control back. Unfortunately, he was just content to lie there and moan. Snorting to herself in irritation and losing her patience, Charlotte fired off a mild bludgeoning curse at Weasley's chest, knowing it would make him moan even harder but she hoped a little dose of pain would make him aware she was speaking to him.

"I don't think I was clear, so I will say it again and hopefully get it through your stupid thick skull…I am not going with you to this Ball; the idea alone is disgusting. You disgust me, you filthy, smelly, ill-mannered, ignorant, bad-tempered, pig-headed, arrogant, miserable arsehole of a neanderthal. I have had to put up with three years of you, and if you think I'm going to dance, smelling your body odour and your greased hair simply 'cause you don't know how to wash yourself you've got another thing coming. I don't care what Dumbledore tells you; I am not going to date or marry you just because that old bastard says otherwise. But if I do go to the Yule Ball, it will be my own choice, with my own date, and if you try anything to ruin it, I will take the law into my own hands!" Charlotte hissed.

Weasley moaned.

Charlotte sighed and walked off giving up since it was clear Weasley was not listening to her. "Well, don't say I didn't warn you," she called back and she walked quickly away, not really knowing and not caring one little bit if someone came along and helped Weasley or if he just lay there for the rest of this period.

She came to the castle doors and she clicked her fingers, thankful that the Founders had given her access to this little ability so she wouldn't need to break out of one of the ground floor windows of one of the disused classrooms. She closed her eyes as she found herself on the ground, and she smiled at the simplicity of nature; while her view of the school and the Wizarding World had been tarnished fairly quickly and with each year she lost more and more faith they had common sense between their ears, she did love the fantastic views of the Scottish highlands.

Charlotte had the grounds pretty much to herself, and she slowly walked around them. She stopped by the Quidditch pitch and looked around as she looked at the three Quaffle hoops and the spectator stands. As much as she wished she didn't, Charlotte couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia surge through her as she remembered her first matches back in her first year, how she had nearly been badly injured in all of them, from when Quirrell had cursed her broomstick, and where Dobby had enchanted that bludger to smash her off of her broomstick.

Charlotte chuckled a little as she thought of her male House Elf; while she'd been put out by what he'd done and his attempts to stop her coming back to Hogwarts for her second year, and she prayed he never tried anything like that again even if she knew his heart was in the right place.

Her smile disappeared as she remembered how Wood had essentially blackmailed her emotionally into staying on the team after she had been exposed to the Dementors the previous year. She had been so tired and fed up with how she couldn't play Quidditch without something happening which would land her on her back in the hospital wing, and she had decided to hell with her image, she would just quit. Unfortunately Wood had begged her to stay on, going as far as to use emotional blackmail. In the end, sucker she was, Charlotte had stayed on, but she had told Wood if she got injured in any way in the final matches of her Third Year, then she would leave and she wouldn't give a damn how he felt. Wood hadn't liked that, but it was fair. Fortunately, she hadn't been injured or affected by the Dementors, but for Charlotte, the appeal of Quidditch had run its course; after her third year she had felt she had played enough games. She had originally planned on telling McGonagall about her choice for this year, but since she had resigned from Hogwarts and she had been kicked out of Gryffindor House - Thanks for all the stupid matches you've won, Charlotte; you have our eternal gratitude but you're not a Gryffindor anymore - it was academic.

Charlotte had never been as obsessed with Quidditch as her peers. She had only been on the team because McGonagall had seen her catch that stupid Remembrall Neville had carried around that Malfoy had thrown in that stupid attempt to cause trouble, but while it had been fun she had only been the seeker because she had felt it would help build the image she wanted for herself, allowing her to blend into the school without Dumbledore knowing or even interfering with her long term plans.

There was nothing for her here, and by the end of the year, she hoped the Tournament would be finished with and she could also hopefully find out who had put her name into the Goblet of Fire, and when she did she would make them pay. Charlotte turned around and walked away from the pitch and she walked slowly around the grounds. She could see the Beaxbatons carriage in the distance, and if she looked around the castle itself at a certain angle to the lake, she could see the Dumstrang ship. Charlotte planned to steer clear of them both although what the students themselves would do if they spotted her she had no idea, she wasn't going to put it to the test.

Coming to a boulder embedded in the ground, Charlotte sat down, wincing as the cool damp of the rock seeped through her stockings and skirt but she waved her wand and it disappeared. She leaned back on the rock and she thought about what she was going to do.

The Founders' task of heading to that library sealed away for centuries was at the back of her mind, but truthfully she knew she had plenty of time to get there. She wasn't expected to read through a library containing a number of books in one day. But her heart just wasn't in it; the confrontations with Weasley and Dumbledore had snatched her good mood away and now she knew she was press-ganged into a Ball, she needed time to think.

She didn't want to go to some pointless Ball. In fact, she had no idea why there was such a thing in the first place, but she didn't know what she was going to do.

To attend she would need a date, and the thought of dancing with someone made her sick since she didn't trust anyone in the school. Charlotte sighed and she wondered to herself how her life had come to this so quickly. In the summer she had been busy, using the time turner she'd copied to commit crimes while being in the same place at the same time, breaking into the Tower of London and the Louvre among other places, and mastering the animagus transformation.

Now she was in a life and death Tournament where she had been harassed and threatened, and she had lost an eye and she had needed to put some of her plans into operation or she'd simply flipped them over on their heads. Charlotte had originally not planned on quitting Hogwarts. She had originally planned to get her exams, but her intention of keeping her head down until that point was gone forever. She had been so looking forward to getting one over on Dumbledore, making him take a taste of his own medicine after manipulating so much of her life for so long.

She had to admit it was a good thing he hadn't tried to contest or overturn her resignation from the school, although she had been worried he would use his influence to interfere despite the Founders and the goblins reassuring her it could never happen. If there was one thing she had learnt it was whatever Albus Dumbledore wanted, Albus Dumbledore inevitably got.

XXX

As she walked back into the castle hoping to get to the Founder's forgotten library and collect some books - she had no desire to spend a lot of time in the school anymore in case she had a confrontation with other people who had a grudge against her like Malfoy or some of the more extreme Slytherins, Snape, or even with people whom she truly did not want to speak to anymore; in this case, Dumbledore was at the top of the list, but right next to the old bastard were Hermione Granger, the Weasley twins, Ginny, and several other people - and from there head home back to the windmill and study from there, Charlotte was grateful for the chance she'd had to cool off.

She'd also had the chance to think about the Yule Ball. Personally she didn't want anything to do with it, especially if it was Ministry sponsored. Charlotte's contempt for the Ministry had reached new heights when she'd discovered what they'd done with her parents' belongings. While she was a thief and saw the hypocrisy for herself, she had to ask herself what the point was behind Bagnold and Fudge's attempts to keep her family property away from her. In the end, she'd decided it didn't matter, but at the same time, while she would love nothing more than to avoid the whole thing, she saw that if she did that then everyone would think the worst of her and although she didn't care what people thought about her at this stage, Charlotte would love nothing more than to show them up.

She was just turning a corner when she walked into someone.

"Oh, sorry, Charlotte."

Charlotte gasped and she looked up into the concerned face of Cedric Diggory. "Cedric," she whispered, flushing as she found herself in his arms. "Hi…"

"Are you okay?" the Hufflepuff seventh year asked her in concern. "I've been looking for you for days."

Charlotte tilted her head. "Why?" she asked curiously, flushing a little by how close to her bum one of his hands were.

"To find out how you are," Cedric replied as though the answer was obvious. Suddenly he looked down and wouldn't look her in the eyes, or sunglasses to be more accurate in her case.

Charlotte was surprised. No-one in Hogwarts had ever truly given two thoughts about her wellbeing before, so she was surprised. But what surprised her the most was how she had probably scared Cedric to death during the First Task; he had treated her with kindness and yet she'd repaid him by attacking him. But as she looked deeply at his face she could see something was bothering him, and so she put aside her curiosity about how he felt about her when most just saw her as a dark witch to ask him what was wrong.

"Cedric, what's wrong?" she asked.

Cedric took a deep breath and he lifted his head to look her in the eye. "Will you go to the Yule Ball with me?"

Charlotte's mouth dropped in surprise. "Y-you want to g-go out with me?" she whispered.

"If you don't I'll understand," Cedric smiled, or tried to smile.

"No, I'm flattered, but I thought you were already dating Cho Chang?" Charlotte said, remembering seeing the haughty Ravenclaw bully on Cedric's arm, simpering around him. She had often wondered what the attraction was since Cho was a bully and she guessed Cedric hadn't seen that part of Cho yet.

Cedric sighed. "Not anymore we're not," he said. The tone of his voice and the stiff posture he'd suddenly taken made it more than clear to Charlotte he didn't want to discuss the matter, and unlike other people - Lavender Brown and Hermione Granger among them - Charlotte knew when to leave well enough alone.

Charlotte bit her lip and looked deeply into his eyes. He was serious. "How long have you been looking for me?" she asked.

"For the last few days, but," Cedric shook his head as a thoughtful look crossed his face, "it's weird. I've been looking for you for ages and yet today I seemed to have a clear view of where you'd be."

While Cedric was confused about the matter of how he'd found her so easily whereas nobody hadn't unless it down to sheer pot luck, Charlotte was not as clueless. There was no doubt in her mind at all Cedric had been directed her way by the Founders, and it made her wonder if finding the library was the only thing on their minds or if they were doing this to get her and Cedric together. She decided to put that out of her mind for now and wait until she visited them again to get her answers.

"So….will you go with me?" Cedric bit his lip hesitantly, making Charlotte barely resist the urge to kiss him.

Charlotte looked at the handsome wizard. So much was going through her mind that it was hard to keep track. The news she would be forced to attend a dance sponsored by the Ministry had instantly made her tempted to simply avoid the whole thing out of spite for Fudge and his moronic administration, and do something more constructive with her time and energy like robbing a bank or a house.

But Cedric asking her out…it was shocking. Charlotte had never been on a date in her life in Hogwarts because she'd always looked into the minds of the boys to see if they were even worthwhile and each time she had been disappointed since they'd wanted to use the image of her on their arms to show off to everyone in the school. But as she looked into Cedric's eyes she could see the same honesty he'd exuded when they'd met before Bones destroyed her eye.

But looking into the eyes of the sweet guy in front of her, Charlotte smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "I'd love to go," she said.


	13. Chapter 13 The Yule Ball

Disclaimer - I don't own Harry Potter. Please let me know what you think.

Enjoy.

* * *

The Hell of Fourth Year.

Charlotte cursed the butterflies in her stomach; even with the calming drought she'd taken it was certain in her mind no simple potion was going to just erase the nervousness she was feeling. In the two weeks since she'd been invited to the Yule Ball by Cedric Diggory, Charlotte had tried to return to a simple routine, but she was lost trying to figure out the best way to do everything. She had caught herself daydreaming to herself what dress to wear and what Cedric would be wearing before she shook herself out of her daydream.

But still, it had been embarrassing enough that more than once since Cedric had asked her out, Salazar or one of the other Founders had knocked her on her backside during training when she should have been concentrating. Fortunately the Founders had been understanding to a degree although Slytherin found ways of tormenting her with mocking questions and quips which drove her spare. Still she would prefer Slytherin's quips to Snape's snide comments and remarks.

Her daydreaming had been so bad all the planned burglaries she'd prepared had been put on hold until the Yule Ball was over. But Charlotte was truly looking forward to it.

She had never really gone out dating before (those escapades in Muggle London didn't count; they were mostly for sex more than anything else, well that and information as well as for her own pleasure and she had never considered those one-night stands to be dates, nor had she considered those nights where she'd gone to nightclubs to be dates either) and since she was going with a gorgeous guy, Charlotte wanted to look her best.

She had been so determined nothing ruin this night, she'd asked the Founders (costing her some of her pride as well) to help her learn how to dance.

Fortunately, the Founders had been amused and they had taken time out to help teach her how to dance. Charlotte had actually rather enjoyed the dancing lessons much to her surprise since she had never really considered herself to be the dancing type, although she guessed that was because when she was growing up she had been more interested in committing crimes.

She blew out a slow breath as the designers and stylists she'd hired with the basilisk money bustled around her, fussing over her while she fixed her glasses. She had decided to forego her sunglasses and instead she was wearing a pair of ordinary-looking lenses which were tinted. The glasses created an illusion which made people think she was an ordinary girl with two eyes, but once the glasses were off, the illusion was broken. Charlotte had wanted Cedric to see her completely, and while it was an illusion she had to give Rowena and Salazar credit with their spellwork.

But she also had to give the designers and stylists credit, they had really poured out their hearts and their souls into making her stand out. The moment she had thought about what she'd wanted to wear, Charlotte had made it very clear she didn't want to wear _anything _affiliated with Hogwarts. That meant no red, green, yellow, or dark blue.

Charlotte was wearing a royal purple shoulderless evening gown which didn't touch the floor with slits at the sides that stopped at the thighs which allowed her to walk freely, on her feet were a pair of high-heeled shoes which were charmed to be comfortable and wouldn't let her trip up her own feet. As she looked at her reflection, Charlotte had to admit she looked good; unlike her former housemates Lavender and Parvati, she had never really been interested in cosmetics although she knew how to apply nail varnish, lipstick and lipgloss, eyeshadow and mascara etc, but it hadn't been her life. She just knew enough to look good, that was it.

In any case, the work of the stylists was of far better quality than anything those gossip loving idiot could ever have dreamt of and the best thing was her makeup was simple rather than overly heavy.

Her skin was soft and luckily the dress covered up what few injuries the Founders had yet to fully purge from her body, and carried the scent of roses around her. It wasn't an overpowering scent, but soothing, subtle one. Her lips were a deep scarlet in colour, with her eyeshadow a dark silver. Her short hair had been styled as best as it could considering its length, but the stylists had done their best with what they had to work with and she was pleased with it since her hair looked well combed. What Charlotte liked the most about her appearance was the collection of jewels in her hair, with a necklace of emeralds and diamonds coiled around her throat. In her ears were a pair of silver studs with gleaming diamonds in them.

When they were finished with their work, the stylists and the designers had nearly wept for joy at how she looked. As she looked at herself looking so different from how she normally looked, Charlotte promised herself to give these wonderful people a bonus. A really big bonus; she knew they were just doing their jobs, but they had poured their hearts and their souls into their work, and she had every intention of repaying them.

"Showtime," she whispered to herself, taking a deep breath.

"You look beautiful."

Charlotte turned and smiled at the portraits of the Founders. "Do I?" she asked bashfully.

She wasn't blind, she knew she had inherited her good looks from her parents, but unlike other girls her age, Charlotte had never truly been bothered by her appearance even though she often used her beauty as a tool while at the same time dressing provocatively to get what she wanted. But this was a special occasion for her.

"Of course you dear, Charlotte," Helga said affronted, clearly unable to fathom why she wouldn't believe it herself.

"Charlotte," Salazar began seriously, "don't let your past or your concerns burden you for one night. You get to be beautiful for this one night, let yourself go."

"He's right," Rowena nodded in a serious manner herself. "You are going with a wonderful young man-."

"He should be, he's one of the few decent badgers Hogwarts has seen for a long time," Helga interrupted, although her sad face made it clear what she really thought of the fact Hogwarts had become so stagnant the values of each of the Houses had been rotting for so long that it was virtually impossible for rare gems to crop up to shine from time to time, but Helga's feelings were shared by the others.

"As I was saying," Rowena went on, although her sad tone reflected just how the Ravenclaw Founder felt at what her Hufflepuff counterpart had just brought up, "you are going with a wonderful young man, and not one of those idiots who've hounded you."

"She means you won't be going with a boy who's actually a worthless piece of trash," Slytherin added helpfully, ignoring Ravenclaws' scathing masterful glare. "Enjoy yourself, but if anyone tries anything, don't hesitate to make them regret it."

Charlotte snorted. "As if I would." She became shy. "Well, I'd better be going."

Just as Dobby was taking her to Hogwarts, Charlotte could swear blind she heard the female Founders swoon. "How romantic!" Helga giggled, making her male counterparts roll their eyes.

Charlotte giggled herself.

XXX

Arriving at Hogwarts, Charlotte could definitely pick up on the vibe of the place. There was certainly something special about this evening, and she could already hear the sounds of music from inside that reminded her of pop music of a sort.

"Thanks, Dobby," Charlotte whispered to the House-elf. "I'll call you if I need you for anything."

"Yes, miss," Dobby said, gazing at her in awe. "You looks so pretty, Missy Char!"

Charlotte giggled at the House elf. "Thanks, Dobby."

The House elf gently took hold of her dress, careful not to crease it. "You's be having a good time," he said sternly before he disappeared, leaving a bemused Charlotte behind.

She shook her head after a moment before she headed for the castle. "I swear that guy has an attitude, but I love him and Winky anyway," she said as she walked through the castle, taking a deep breath with each step, noticing the portraits and the ghosts which she came across did the double-take at the sight of her. Even Peeves was surprised, but Charlotte flicked one of her wands into place and rolled it around in her hands, smiling malevolently at the poltergeist.

"Ruin my dress and my night, and not even the Bloody Baron, or that stupid monk ghost who keeps staying you should be given a second chance can save you when I use the most painful exorcism curse I know on you, Peeves. You will be erased from existence slowly…and painfully," she threatened, "now get lost!"

The poltergeist instantly darted away when he noticed the tip of the wand flare an angry red in colour, wailing in fear. Charlotte blew out a breath, and she carried on her way. It didn't take her long before she came across a few of the students, and they gasped in shock at the sight of her. Some of them rushed off to find their friends to let them know Charlotte Potter was in the castle.

Charlotte didn't concern herself with them, she just walked with her head held high while she approached the doors to the Hall where the Ball would be held. Once she came to the doors she stood and waited for Cedric's arrival, hoping that by being there she would finally get rid of the butterflies in her stomach while she prayed this particular night wouldn't be a disaster.

As she waited, a flash of movement caught her attention. She looked around and she stiffened slightly when she saw Malfoy and Parkinson approaching, both of them slowing down in their walk as they saw her. Parkinson opened her mouth to say something, but Charlotte's wand snapped into her hand and she levelled it at them both.

"Don't. I want a nice evening tonight; ruin it, and let's just say you won't have time to regret it," she warned.

Malfoy snapped into attention, and quickly pulled his date as far from Charlotte as he could.

Charlotte took a deep breath and she put her wand away and settled back to wait.

Finally she spotted Cedric appearing. He was wearing black dress robes with a matching bow tie with a white shirt with the lapels flecked in silver and gold. Charlotte smiled when she saw him, and her smile widened when she saw the look of awe on his face. "Hello, Cedric," she smiled.

"Charlotte…you look…amazing," he replied in awe.

Charlotte ducked her head happily, and then she saw a look of sudden confusion on his face. "What's wrong?" she asked worriedly.

"Your eye, it's back."

Charlotte sighed. "No, I'm afraid not," she said, realising she should have expected this. "The glasses show an illusion of my eye, but take them off and you'll see the truth."

"Oh," Cedric looked apologetic and awkward at the same time at the topic he'd just brought up. "I'm sorry."

Charlotte smiled at him as best as she could, seeing into his mind that he meant what he had said. "No, don't be. I should have realised it would be brought up."

Still awkward Cedric reached behind him and he brought out a rose which he slipped into Charlotte's hair. Charlotte looked at it in wide-eyed surprise. "Sweet," she whispered, surprised since she hadn't expected Cedric to do that.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Cedric grinned at her. "I have a beautiful girl, its good show to let her know how good I am." He mock sniffed haughtily, but the humour in his eyes made her roll her eyes at him.

At the same time, she could see into his mind and she could see he was happy that she wasn't acting insane like Cho was. The thought of Cho Chang made Charlotte inwardly cringe. Apparently the Chinese witch had shown Cedric what her true colours were and he didn't like the thought he had been dating a bully. What made it worse was Cho had been annoyed when she had heard from rumours that Cedric had met and hugged her in the corridors shortly before Charlotte's eye was slashed.

"Well, you are good," Charlotte lifted her nose in mock haughty fashion herself. "Perfect for a lady like myself."

Cedric chuckled. "Oh, that was very good," he said before he held out his arm, which she gladly took.

Charlotte and Cedric met the other Champions and their own dates were gathered, and her appearance. No-one could say anything about her, since they looked like a terrific couple.

Fleur was wearing a flowing silver dress which glittered in the light as though it were covered in small diamonds. Her hair and face were styled and made up, and her hair was shining like silvery gold. Standing next to her, enthralled by her beauty if his expression was anything to go by, was the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, Roger Davies. He was dressed in a similar manner to Cedric only his shirt was blue.

Viktor was stiff as usual in his uniform with a flowing fur cloak, and his date was, to Charlotte's surprise, Hermione Granger. She had definitely done something to her hair, making it slicked and neat and shining and she'd tied it into an elegant-looking knot. She was wearing a periwinkle-blue dress with pearl white shoes. Charlotte looked into the eyes of the girl who'd been made to spy on her by Dumbledore, and she turned her face away, refusing to even look at the girl, especially since she could see Hermione clearly having many questions but it was clear she knew better than to ask them. She could see that Charlotte had no intention of answering anything she had to ask, and she held her tongue. She knew better than to push Charlotte; she had tolerated her questions for the most part before this whole mess, but more than once Hermione had seen for herself Charlotte could only be pushed so far before she lost her temper.

In the meantime, the other Champions looked at her open-mouthed, but Charlotte received an admiring look from Viktor while Fleur was content to pull herself together., but whatever they were thinking Charlotte didn't know and frankly didn't give a damn.

Professor McGonagall appeared wearing dress robes of deep red and gold - Gryffindor colours - somehow they didn't suit her. She paused when she saw Charlotte and Cedric, but she looked away with a resigned look on her face. She managed to pull herself together and she looked around the Champions. "Are you all ready?" she asked.

Everyone nodded.

"Good. I will call your names," McGonagall said, and raising her wand to her throat she called, "Introducing our Champions, Viktor Krum and Hermione Granger. Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies….Cedric Diggory and Charlotte Potter."

As each date walked into the Hall which was richly decorated for the occasion with a podium for the band - Charlotte quickly realised they were the Weird Sisters, who seemed to be the only pop band in the magical world - but she turned her attention to the crowd, and saw some of them were a little surprised two Champions were dating for tonight.

XXX

Charlotte enjoyed the First dance, especially since it put her dancing training to good use. As the Champions danced, more and more people came out onto the dance floor.

But as she looked at the other Champions, she saw Roger needing to be forcibly pushed towards Hermione while Krum went with Fleur. "Do you want to switch to other partners?" she asked Cedric.

Cedric shrugged. "I don't mind, but do you really want to dance with someone else? I mean, none of the other Champions have treated you right, and the same with the rest of the schools?"

Charlotte scrunched her face up in distaste. "Not really, but if you want to, I don't mind."

Cedric shook his head. "Nah, I don't," he said coming to a snap decision. "I will stay with you."

He gave a crooked smile.

Charlotte gave a bit of a giggle. "You're gonna make dozens of girls swoon if you keep grinning like that."

"Do you like it?"

"I do," she smiled. "It's a lovely smile."

"So is yours. Speaking of me having girls swooning, you should see the looks you are getting. You look amazing."

"Thanks. I wanted to look my best; I may not agree with the whole thing, and I like the events surrounding the choosing even less," she looked away for a moment as she recalled what happened as soon as she was away from the other Champions, how disowning Gryffindor, and lastly the bullying she'd had to cope with, but she quickly pulled herself together, "but that doesn't mean I can't try to enjoy myself," she finished with a smile.

Cedric chuckled. "You've blown everyone away. And this time you didn't need to use your wand."

"Ah, yeah," Charlotte looked sheepish. "Sorry if I scared you during the First Task."

"That's one way of putting it, but you were brilliant. You got me out of the way, and you didn't hurt me. I wasn't even annoyed when you went for those Hufflepuffs since they haven't acted like true 'puffs," Cedric replied before Charlotte looked away sheepishly although she wasn't sorry, not one little bit, about what she'd done during the Task. They danced in happy silence although they exchanged small talk occasionally before a loud yell bellowed close by before a pair of large hands roughly grabbed Charlotte's arm, threatening to tear her dress. "You're meant to be my date, not this stupid 'Puff!"

With that yell, all dancing in the Hall stopped. Everyone turned, surprised by what was happening while others were anticipating a drama. Meanwhile, the Weasleys present in the Hall and Hermione Granger were watching the proceedings in horror.

Charlotte swung around and looked into the angry face of Ron Weasley. "Let go of me," she snarled while she held up a hand to Cedric to let him know she could handle this.

"No, you were promised to me-!"

"Promised, by Dumbledore? What gives him the right to interfere in our personal lives?" Charlotte shouted, but Weasley was pulling her away.

"We're gonna dance now, Charlotte. You are not going to look at this Hufflepuff duffer again-!" Weasley shouted, pulling her away.

"No chance!" Charlotte spat, punching Weasley in the face. The blow was strong enough to force Weasley off, and he was sent staggering off, but he recovered quickly, and before Charlotte could do anything, in a fit of rage, Weasley had punched her back with enough force to send her to the ground.

Charlotte let out a cry out of reflex as pain sparked off in her face, and she could feel hands that she knew belonged to Cedric trying to help her up, and she could hear the voices of the twins as well as McGonagall.

"You stupid arse, Ron!"

"Just because Dumbledore says something, doesn't mean you can just storm over and ruin someone's evening, you prick!" the other twin growled.

"That's enough you two!" McGonagall began. But she was in agreement with the twins. "You are going to be in detention for this, Mr Weasley. I don't care what the Headmaster says, or what you think you are entitled to do, but in this school this behaviour is unacceptable!"

Charlotte clenched her teeth angrily, annoyed the teacher was doing this job now. As she was getting up, she realised that she could only see with one eye instead of having the vision transmitted into her brain to give her the impression she had two eyes. Anger flared inside her, and she mentally focused on her animagus form to allow her to get up quickly, stunning her date. Snapping her wand into her hand she banished everyone away from Weasley, and she summoned an empty water goblet into her hand.

Everyone was silent as she advanced towards Weasley, and all of them backed away as the air crackled with magical energy as she began to lose her temper. "You fucking pig!" she hissed as she glared malevolently down at the redhead. "I warned you not to ruin my night, I made it very clear it would hurt. What will it take for everyone in this stupid school to leave me alone? I wanted a nice night with Cedric, what do you do? You ruin it for me, and for everyone else! If we were alone, you would be lucky to walk out of this hall alive!

"But don't worry, Weaselbee…I'm not going to kill you; I don't want to be arrested, although truthfully I wonder if many would truly care given how you are seen in the school. I've got something poetic in mind for you! Tell me….what are you afraid of?" A malicious malevolent sneer crossed Charlotte's face. "Oh, yeah…spiders!"

Weasley looked up at her in horror as his arachnophobia, and before he could say or do anything to stop her, Charlotte had flicked her wand already at him before she transfigured the glass she was holding in her hand into a small mirrored box. At the same time, she created a shield around herself to stop anyone from stupidly trying to stop her.

Weasley screamed as his body started transforming into that of a spider, and he watched as his arms elongated and stretched out in front of him while two more pairs of legs sprouted out of his body and his skin turned darker, while hairs sprouted over his body. Girls screamed while boys looked away as the gruesome transformation took place.

Percy Weasley stormed over to stop this, but Cedric got in the way and he poked his wand into the older Weasley's stomach. Percy was about to protest, threaten Cedric, but the look of anger on the Hufflepuff's face stopped him. "Don't. I don't want to hurt you, but if your damn family had any scruples, this wouldn't be happening!" Cedric snarled, furious his night had gone this way, and not really caring one little what Percy did although truthfully it was likely he wouldn't do much.

Dumbledore was taking a step forward to intervene as well before Professors Flitwick, McGonagall, and surprisingly Snape stopped him. "Don't interfere, Albus!" Flitwick whispered fiercely, his very expression reminding all onlookers what goblins were good at aside from accountancy.

"I don't like this any more than you do, but since you poked your nose into personal lives, what did you expect?" Minerva said quietly and angrily.

Surprisingly Snape wasn't on Dumbledore's side. He had been forced to see for himself during the First Task, and for the first time, he had seen the truth of what Pomfrey had been saying even though he had known but hadn't really witnessed Charlotte Potter in one of her berserker moments. But now, seeing it in the Task…Severus knew how lucky he was, and although he didn't realise it, his thoughts echoed Malfoy's.

Now all Snape wanted was to steer clear of not just this Potter, but all of them.

James Potter had been an arrogant braggart, a schoolyard bully.

His daughter…

She was something much worse.

She wasn't a bully. She was a monster if provoked. Truly you would need to be insane to want to cross her.

"You see, Headmaster, this is what happens when you encourage someone without any intelligence. Not only have you got it into Weasley's brain he and Charlotte are _fated _for each other," he sneered the word mockingly to show how pathetic he found it, "you've pretty much encouraged him to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants without caring about the consequences. What did you expect was going to happen, even I know Potter hates Weasley!"

Dumbledore was about to speak to showcase his views, but McGonagall pointed at the scene. "Look!"

Weasley was finished with his transformation, and he now appeared to be a giant spider but he was suddenly growing smaller and smaller and he was suddenly being pulled into the small mirrored box in Charlotte's hand. Once the youngest Weasley boy was inside, Charlotte looked around the hall, her single eye gazing angrily around the array of faces before she looked into the box. "You are gonna stay in that box until I say you can come out, and if your mother is really stupid enough to send me a Howler…Well, I won't be held responsible for what could happen, will, I? You'd better hope mummy won't help you, Weasley, otherwise you're gonna get a one-way trip down my toilet. Dobby!"

Immediately the House-elf appeared, startling Malfoy who recognised the elf as the one Charlotte had tricked his father into freeing.

Dobby was startled to have been summoned in public, but he looked dutifully up at Charlotte while Dumbledore was surprised that Charlotte Potter had a House elf in the first place. "Missy Char wants Dobby? What happened to your glasses?"

Charlotte knelt down and held out the box. "In this box is the wizard who almost ruined my evening, Dobby. I have transformed him into a spider. I want you to take him back to the house, put him in the top drawer of my desk. I was tempted to transform him into a mouse, a plaything for Nightstar; but I didn't want a mess even if it means his new fear would be cats rather than spiders."

No-one had ever seen a House-elf look as annoyed as Dobby, and for a moment they wondered if he would destroy the box, but he held up his hand and clicked his fingers, disappearing from view.

Charlotte stood up and she looked around for her glasses, and she flicked her wand out again and summoned it into her hands before she pushed them back onto her face, and the illusion was restored even though it was marred by the fact everyone had seen the truth.

She turned her head around the hall, seeing everyone looking at her. "Haven't you people got dancing to do?" she asked pointedly before she returned to Cedric hesitantly.

"I'm so sorry, Cedric," she apologised.

But he stopped her when he lifted her chin up gently. She was taken by surprise when she saw the understanding rather than revulsion in his eyes. "You've got nothing to apologise for," he whispered soothingly before he pulled her into a dance, and they resumed their night and they tried to both forget the altercation with Weasley.

But Cedric had something on his mind. "What was all that about anyway?"

"Dumbledore, for reasons which escape intellectual reasoning, told Weasley we were meant to be together and that I was his date, his girlfriend, and Merlin knows what else."

"What?" Cedric pulled back so he could stare at Charlotte with eyes full of disbelief. "But you hate Weasley. Everyone knows that; before the Tournament "

"No-one ever said Dumbledore was smart about the little details; he's intelligent and seen as one of the most powerful wizards on the Earth. I'm not denying that, nor would I. But so many of his decisions make little sense," Charlotte shook her head. "He talks about how muggle-borns should be treated as equal, yet he doesn't stop any of the more extreme students from bullying them. He targets students specifically for something, and he changes the environment so all students in the school assault them. It's almost like he's trying to create dark lords."

"What?" Cedric gasped.

"Yeah. Do you remember the Weighing of the Wands, how I lashed out at him?"

Cedric needed to remember for a moment. When he did he stared down at her in surprise. "You hinted some students had committed suicide," he reminded her. "That actually happened?"

Charlotte nodded, cursing Dumbledore and Weasley for ruining her night; she and Cedric should have been relaxing or something like that, not speaking about such a depressing topic. "Yeah. One girl did. She was singled out and transformed into a pariah. In the end, she committed suicide because she couldn't take it anymore."

She buried her head in Cedric's chest, making it clear she didn't want to discuss the matter anymore.

Cedric was more than happy to oblige. "I'm sorry," he whispered, hoping that his apology carried the fact he was sorry she had become one of the Headmaster's targets as well.

XXX

"There is no need to stop me from going over to her, Minerva," Dumbledore protested as he tried, and failed, to break out of the grip the Transfiguration mistress had on his hands.

That was of course the wrong thing to say since Minerva was now glaring at him. "Oh yes there is, Albus. I am trying to stop you from finishing what Mr Weasley finished earlier, to ruin this evening for everyone simply because he didn't get what he'd wanted."

Dumbledore sighed. He was aware that what he had said to Mr Weasley had blown up in his face now, especially since the youngest Weasley boy had embarrassed himself and even worse, although it hadn't been completely confirmed, everyone knew he had deliberately tried to push Weasley and Charlotte together.

Dumbledore had no idea what he was going to do about this, especially since Charlotte had made it clear she wouldn't tolerate anyone interfering in her life.

"I wasn't going to say anything to her, Minerva-," Albus tried to say, but the disbelieving snort made him glare in annoyance at the Transfiguration mistress. "I wasn't!"

"Oh, really? You weren't going to say anything to her? Why do I not believe you?" Minerva stared at him angrily. "Severus was right. You do encourage people without any intelligence, or common sense. You've practically given permission to Weasley he can say and do whatever he wishes where Charlotte is concerned, ignoring the fact she wants nothing to do with him. And now it's blown up spectacularly in your face, after what he did; he not only embarrassed himself, he embarrassed his family when he assaulted her. Doesn't he realise the danger in harming the heir or heiress of an old family? Just because Charlotte broke off the alliance, doesn't mean she's weak."

Dumbledore had to hide his inner delight at the thought of the alliance being fractured. He had been surprised when word had gotten out since the alliance affected businesses on top of everything else, surprised that Charlotte who was quite defiant at moments would go that far. But what surprised him the most was that Charlotte, who was quite defiant to him at the moment, would go through with one of his plans. It never occurred to him that if the Alliance had proven to be loyal to the last heiress of the Potter family, she would have been loyal in turn.

But his mind caught up with what Minerva had said.

He sighed wearily. "I doubt it," he whispered, inwardly furious and horrified by Ronald's treatment of Charlotte. That type of behaviour would be unthinkable between a loving couple.

Minerva coughed and he looked her in the eye. He inwardly sighed when he caught sight of her narrow-eyed expression. "When she returns him to his former self, I will make sure Mr Weasley understands it," she promised him in a dark way.

Dumbledore sighed. He knew he would need to distance himself from the Weasley family for a while for this.

"Albus, stop trying to control that girl. Stop meddling in her personal life; it is none of your business!"

XXX

In Charlotte's opinion, the evening had gone wonderful once she had managed to push what had happened with Weasley out of her mind for good. Unfortunately, someone else had tried to make it their goal to cause problems. After the first dance, Charlotte and Cedric had had dinner, and unfortunately for the pair of them, Percy Weasley had sat down as close as he could get. As soon as she and Cedric had sat down, Charlotte had waited for Percy to start on them both for what had happened with his brother.

She didn't have long to wait. As soon as they'd ordered their meals, Percy had started having a go, going on and on about rules and all that while Charlotte was composing a particularly long and compromising account for the media, along with the private threat to the media's chiefs she would withdraw funding if they pushed her, about what Ronald had done.

She was not going to care about the outcry to the Weasley family. She was sick and tired of people telling her how to live her life, who she was meant to date. It never ended, and it pissed her off all the time. After listening to Percy for about a few seconds, Charlotte had put a strong silencing charm on him, much to the relief of the other Champions as well as Cedric, although Charlotte had noticed Hermione look disapproving although she could tell the brunette was just as relieved, which meant her disapproval was just out of reflex.

After the formalities of the evening were done, the whole Hall transformed into something Charlotte had only seen in a nightclub. And she enjoyed dancing and laughing with Cedric.

When the evening was over, Charlotte was laughing with Cedric as they made their way to the garden. "That was fun!" he said.

"Yeah, it was," she gave him a dazzling smile. "Thanks for asking me to be your date. I'm sorry some of it was ruined thanks to Weasley-dum and Weasley-dee."

"You're welcome, but the brightest highlight of the night was going with you, but, er, Weasley-dum and Weasley-dee?" Cedric looked at her confused.

She smirked. "Muggle novel," she said shortly, promising herself to lend him a copy of _Alice in Wonderland _before her mood changed. "Anyway, I'd better be heading home, unless you'd like to come to, have something….to-to drink?" she stuttered uncertainly.

Inwardly Charlotte was killing herself. Here she was, a master thief, stuttering and uncertain about asking this handsome and amazing guy to her windmill for a drink or even more.

Cedric looked at her stunned, he hadn't expected this. He hadn't even thought that Charlotte was coming and going in and out of Hogwarts, but it made sense. At the same time, as he saw her uncertain posture as she waited for his reply, the gentleman in him responded although truthfully ever since this whole mess had begun, he had been growing more and more fascinated by Charlotte. In hindsight, he remembered her saying to that House elf she'd summoned earlier about a house. "I'd love to."

"You…you do?" Charlotte stammered before she shook her head. "Sorry, I'm not good at this. Erm, okay!"

She took a deep breath and then to Cedric's surprise she seemed to stiffen, taking in deep breaths as she did.

"Er, are you okay?"

"Hmm, oh, yeah, definitely. It's just there's a bug on your shoulder," Charlotte reached out and brushed a beetle off of Cedric's shoulder. "There, all gone. Dobby!"

The House elf appeared. "Missy Char called?" he bounced.

Cedric shot the flushing witch an amused look, which Charlotte studiously ignored. "Could you take us back to the House please, Dobby?"

As the House elf nodded and popped both her and Cedric to the windmill, neither Dobby nor Cedric heard or saw Charlotte squeeze the beetle in her hand.

A few minutes after they had left, Professor Snape was taking a walk in the garden. He breathed in the fresh highland air in relief, tired of the hormones and the sounds of the students in the Hall. As he walked through the gardens, he stopped when he heard the sound of someone groaning. Instinctively he pulled out his wand and lit it and advanced quietly while he pulled from his extensive repertoire of deadly curses a choice of some spells which were nasty but not dangerous enough to alert the idiots of the DMLE or Dumbledore.

Snape was so busy thinking through his list and looking out for whatever was causing that horrific breathing and panting that he almost tripped when his feet had caught something, and he went flying, and he lost his grip on his wand which clattered to the floor.

"Ooh," he groaned but he stiffened when he heard groaning coming from whatever it was he'd tripped upon. The tip of his wand was still glowing, so it was easy to find. He picked it up and stood up as quickly as he could, and he went back to whatever he'd tripped upon and he found himself looking at a familiar-looking woman.

Rita Skeeter was lying on the ground, and she looked terrible. At least that was what he'd thought at first. When he bent down and gently felt for a pulse, he needed a moment before he realised her heartbeat and breathing was slowing down. She was near death.


	14. Chapter 14 The Night is Still Young

The Hell of Fourth Year.

When Dobby transported himself and Charlotte into her home, Cedric was uncertain of what he would find; like everybody else, his knowledge of Charlotte's life was extremely limited, but as he took note of his surroundings he was amazed by just how homely the place was. Cedric had expected a mansion of some kind, but he saw at once the house was nothing like that.

Dobby had transported himself and Charlotte into a wide circular room with the ceiling supported by thick wooden beams, and it looked like they had arrived in the kitchen of the building. Everything was spotlessly clean and neat Cedric recognised the kitchen sink, the cupboards and cabinets lining the walls and a cooker of some description, but he didn't recognise the function of the clear muggle appliances around the room. That made sense; judging from what Charlotte had told him, she likely had little experience with magical homes to know what was inside them.

"Thank you, Dobby," Charlotte's voice broke through his survey of the room and he turned to look at her closely, only to find the witch had bent down and was speaking to the House elf.

It surprised Cedric to find any witch or wizard speaking to a House elf in this manner; his family had a small family of House-elves, and his parents had taught him to always regard them as friends although they'd made it clear many other families didn't. Finding a witch who saw them the same way was a surprise, but even he was surprised by the open friendliness and warmth Charlotte had for the House elf in front of her.

"You and Winky can have a night off. No," she held up a finger gently, "I want to enjoy an evening with Cedric. Go on, indulge me. Please."

The House elf seemed to huff. "Okays, Missy Char," he said. "Dobby will find Winky. Can we spend time in the muggle world?"

Cedric gaped at the House elf and his surprise grew even more when he caught the knowing gaze on Charlotte's face. "Sure, just try not to spook too many people. I am not upsetting the ICW by letting you loose."

Dobby nodded and clicked his fingers and was gone.

Charlotte stood up again and she smiled at Cedric. "Would you….like some tea, or coffee?" she asked hesitantly.

Cedric shook his head to get his thoughts into gear after seeing the exchange between Charlotte and her House elf. "Er, sorry? Oh, er tea would be nice. Milk and two sugars."

Charlotte nodded and walked over to the kitchen where she made preparations to make something to drink. Cedric watched her closely, reminded of how he had seen Luna's father pottering around the kitchen of the Rookery, only the memory was joined by the memories of how some of the mothers of his friends who didn't own House-elves worked to cook. He had never imagined seeing that from Charlotte Potter before.

When the kettle was on the cooker, Cedric took a moment to look around the kitchen again. "What was with the House-elves going into the muggle world?" he asked, hoping Charlotte wasn't reckless enough to have two elves who'd cause trouble.

"What?" Charlotte was startled by the question and she blushed when she turned her head around to stare at him. "Oh, I freed Dobby from the Malfoys two years back. When I did that, he became my own House elf, and he became my little guardian angel. He'd been a major help to me over the last two years."

She turned back to the kitchen counter and kept speaking while she worked.

"During the summer, with the Quidditch World Cup, I felt terribly sorry for Winky when Barty Crouch gave her clothes. I took her on. It took me a while to let her know she wasn't a bad House elf, but when she calmed down I couldn't have found anyone better. As for the muggle world," she shot Cedric a pointed look to make it clear to him she knew what he'd been worrying about, "well, I spend a lot of my time there, and with me at Hogwarts, they don't have much to do. I'm not stupid, Cedric; I lived in the muggle world initially with a family of muggles who hated anything unusual. I know many muggles would be terrified of magic. Whenever I go into the muggle world, I always make sure my magical paraphernalia is well hidden and charmed to ensure it is never seen. I've told Dobby and Winky to never reveal themselves to muggles; one of my standing orders. But I couldn't just leave them to be bored, so I've encouraged them to explore the muggle world while keeping their heads down, but to be on call in case I need them. They've been a godsend to me this year, Cedric."

Cedric took the mug of tea in his hands when Charlotte gave it to him, thinking about what he'd just heard. He was worried and uneasy about what Charlotte had hinted her life, and the implications were obviously clear. Hearing that she had told the House-elves she owned not to draw attention to themselves reassured him, otherwise, he would have informed his father about it. In any case, from what he had seen so far, while Charlotte could be dangerous, she was not the sort of person to cause problems unnecessarily for the magical world.

"Come on," Charlotte said invitingly, although he detected a hint of nervousness in her manner; he was confused about that since Charlotte didn't have any true reason to be nervous around him, and so it took Cedric a few moments to realise she was out of her comfort zone where he was concerned as if she were worried about saying something offensive to him. And then it occurred to him that perhaps she had never had a boyfriend before. A part of him said that shouldn't/couldn't be possible since this girl was Charlotte Potter, the Girl Who Lived, but he quickly shut that voice and thought up instantly as he was quickly reminded of what he had seen in the corridor shortly before Charlotte was attacked by Susan.

He had seen the true girl who was trying to live her life, and he had seen for himself just how alone the girl was.

Her entire family had been wiped out leaving her completely by herself, her godfather had betrayed her, and from what she'd let slip she had lived in the muggle world, and she hadn't enjoyed all of it although she must have found some things worthwhile if the appliances in the kitchen were anything to say so. And when she had arrived in the magical world, instead of finding a home, all she had found was more pain. Was it any wonder she was lashing out?

A part of Cedric was surprised that he was seeing life the way Charlotte probably did, but ever since the day she'd cried in his arms which had only led to even more pain thanks to someone who should have been one of her friends and considering the things she'd done since with the way she acted during the Wand Weighing ceremony, the First Task, disowning Hogwarts, breaking off her family's pact with the Alliance, and what she had done with Weasley tonight, he had worked out Charlotte Potter was only trying to survive in a world which had caused her nothing but pain and heartbreak.

"Where are we going?" Cedric asked curiously, although truthfully it wasn't a particularly intelligent question on his part since Charlotte was heading over to the stairway.

She just smiled at him, and he went upstairs with her. As he walked upstairs after the witch, Cedric noticed more and more muggle influence in the decoration in the house (he wondered what kind of house this was, it didn't feel like any kind of house he had ever been in before). "So how long have you lived here, then?"

"Oh, two years. When I got hold of the money from the basilisk, I started looking for a property. A place I could finally call home."

Cedric frowned when he caught the sound of longing in her voice. "You have never had a home before?"

"No. Not unless you count an abusive muggle house, a foster home, and dozens of abandoned buildings in muggle London. But since the magical world has a habit of denying me anything I want, it's odd having a place to myself and for Nightstar."

Cedric flinched at the anger which had grown with each syllable. But then he listened to what Charlotte had said. An abusive muggle house. A foster home. Abandoned buildings. _Merlin, what the hell _happened _to her? _"Where exactly are we?" he changed the subject.

"West Sussex. I wanted to be as far from other people as I could, but close enough just to be on the safe side."

Cedric was left wondering about that statement until Charlotte led him upstairs and when he got a good look around his eyes widened a little bit. Above the room was what looked like a giant cog. The walls were painted a deep blue although it wasn't Ravenclaw blue, it was still both warm and comfortable at the same time. Lining the wall was a white couch with a black cat currently sleeping on it facing a long black object opposite the couch. Lining the walls were a number of photographs. Many of them were not moving, which made it clear they were muggle photographs. Cedric knew there were dozens of witches and wizards who would be offended about that, especially since Charlotte Potter was revered and they expected her to be acting like a pureblood until she was completely against muggles and their culture, but since he wasn't one of them he wasn't concerned. In any case, there were quite a few magical photographs, showing a red-headed woman with emerald green eyes who looked astonishingly like Charlotte, and a man with messy black hair and hazel eyes. They were clearly her parents, and they seemed to have more reverence than anything else. Lining half of the room were a number of shelves containing row upon row of books and knick-knacks, although Cedric didn't know what they were, so he decided just to leave them alone.

The photographs were not the only things hanging on the walls, he realised. Hanging from the walls in black frames were strange posters. One of them had some sort of creature rising from the depths of the sea, a creature with long knife-like teeth with the legend saying _Jaws. _Another read _Star Wars _which showed a group of people with the centre one wearing a whitish tunic holding something in his hands while over them was a grotesque black figure in the back.

Charlotte noticed him looking around. "One of my big passions," she explained. "When I bought this place, I wanted to decorate it, although I didn't have much of a clue about how to do it. I went into a shop in muggle London, saw the movie posters, bought a few of them - posters and films, and watched them - and I thought, why not."

Charlotte walked over to the door leading to the balcony, and she opened it up, barely shivering when she stepped out into the night air. Cedric followed her out, taking a sip of his tea. It was virtually dark outside, although there was a crescent moon in the sky, shooting light through the night, giving a cool but strangely comforting dark blue gleam through the night sky. Coupled with the cool breeze, Cedric didn't really feel cold; if there was one thing about Hogwarts which was beneficial, it was the fact one got used to cold nights.

The lack of houses nearby didn't really bother Cedric; growing up in Ottery St. Catchpole where he and his family were so close to a muggle village meant he and his parents needed to be out of sight of the muggles, and it was the same for the only other magical people nearby were the Lovegoods or the Weasleys who also lived out of sight, although Cedric sometimes wondered if Molly Weasley even understood the need for the magical world to remain secret; the woman's yells and shrieks could be heard over an impressive distance, and Cedric had sometimes asked his mother if the woman had unknowingly used her magic to amplify her voice. Her mother certainly thought he had a good point, although what would happen, Cedric, neither knew nor cared. His family and the Weasleys rarely met given how his mother and theirs didn't really get along, although that was a given since very few people actually tolerated Molly Weasley given her opinionated attitude and her inability to keep her mouth to herself.

Instead, Cedric just took a deep breath and smiled at the scent of the trees and the other plants nearby. Fresh air was something he had grown up with, and on the occasions, he had been to London, he'd been amazed no-one had died of suffocation.

"So what made you move here?" he asked.

"I was tired of London. I'd gone there after my relatives died, and while I managed to survive without a family for a while, I eventually did have to go into foster care," Charlotte paused as she took a sip from her own mug, and she noted her drink was getting cool but it wasn't a problem for now while she considered what to tell Cedric.

She had told him the truth, although when Hagrid had first met her she had been lying low after she had committed a number of cons and burglaries in the local area. Charlotte had been trying to raise the cash in preparation for her future, where she planned on travelling the world. By that point, Charlotte had decided she wanted to be a master thief, although it would have been fun if she had a nice university degree to go with it, so then if people discovered her identity they would realise she wasn't your usual criminal.

"When I found out about the magical world, Dumbledore ensured I went to one of his acolytes for the next summer instead of me going back to the foster home. He kept saying I needed protection, although he didn't go into any detail about protection from what. But after a few days of living with them, I'd had enough."

"What was wrong with them?"

"Nothing. They were nice, but they gave me the impression they would rather have wanted to do other things, and looking after me was more of a favour to the old fool. Imagine my relief when I learnt of the treasure trove I had made for myself when I killed the basilisk."

"Ahhh," Cedric said, momentarily wondering which one of Dumbledore's friends she was talking about, but he decided it made little difference now, although he could see her point of view. But at the same time, he could imagine Charlotte's relief to be finally free of that. "And once you realised you had a fortune, you instantly bought this place and got yourself those custom wands?"

"Among other things, yes," Charlotte sipped her drink, her mind momentarily wondering as she thought about the other goodies she'd gotten thanks to that basilisk. One of them was under her bed, although Cedric was never going to know that. Well, unless he looked. "Dumbledore was not happy with me going off on my own, but there was little he could do; I had the goblins place wards on this place so then Dumbledore and no-one else could track me down, and all mail is sent to a goblin mailbox, which has proven beneficial I can tell you."

"What do you mean?" Cedric asked worriedly.

"Since the First Task people have sent me cursed mail. One of them was a sterility curse."

"What?" Cedric looked at her in outraged shock.

"Don't worry; I sent a much nastier curse back as a lesson they will never forget."

"You could have told the DMLE."

"Don't trust them; especially with Bones in control."

"Why don't you trust her?"

"Do you remember when we met in the corridor and I let slip I was aware of the alliance?" At his nod, Charlotte went on. "I would have been the first to honour the alliance if they tried to look after me, but they didn't. And on top of that, after what happened with my eye any chance of getting me and the alliance together has gone down in flames. I won't have it, Cedric."

Cedric sighed as he looked at it from Charlotte's point of view. "I'm sorry," he apologised. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No, it's okay," Charlotte sighed, trying desperately to find something they could both do before she hit upon an idea. "Do you know anything about movies?"

"Er, no. I've heard a few muggle-borns talking about them. What are they?"

Charlotte grinned.

XXX

Cedric was definitely blown away when Charlotte pulled out a movie called _Independence Day. _It was apparently popular in the muggle world, and after taking a good look at the movie, as the aliens came to Earth (in truth, Cedric had never given any thought to the possibility of aliens beyond Earth, but after watching the movie, Cedric could truly imagine they did exist although it scared him they might try to conquer the Earth; he had no doubts dragons and giants could and would destroy an entire city, but what the aliens did was on a scale that made even the kind of destruction that giants and dragons would need time to devastate cities, but what the aliens did left him staggered), he could see why.

"Wow," Cedric whispered as he watched as David and Steve flew the captured alien fighter into the alien mothership. "I can see what you meant when you said this movie was popular."

"Yeah," Charlotte smiled, shifting her body. As the movement had passed, both she and Cedric had moved around until they were lying on the couch on their sides. Charlotte was trying hard not to flush as she felt his hands around her waist, but she enjoyed it nonetheless.

"Are there others like this?"

"Do you mean the plots of the movies, alien invasions?" Charlotte asked.

"Yeah."

"More than a few," Charlotte replied, trying to think of a few. "I know of a novel written a century ago which described a race of aliens who came from Mars who wanted to colonise Earth after wiping us out because their own world was dying; it's been adapted a few times, but its one of many."

Cedric shifted around, letting out a sound of surprise, making her jump. "What's wrong?" she asked, turning her neck to look him straight in the eye.

Cedric was looking at her in astonishment. "_A hundred years ago? _A muggle author wrote a novel about aliens invading Earth a century ago?"

Charlotte was surprised slightly by his question, stared at him for a moment. She wasn't really surprised by his reaction. One of the biggest issues she had with the Statute of Secrecy although Charlotte was one hundred and fifty per cent behind the Statute after she'd seen the reactions muggles had towards magic over the years, was that while muggles didn't know about magic outside of the obvious exceptions and the occasional blip; a spell being cast, a flying car seen over London or in other places, dragons or giants being seen, etc, it also prevented muggle culture coming into the wizarding world. Charlotte understood better than Hermione Granger and many other muggle-borns like her who believed the magical world was missing out on what was going on in the wider world, but unlike Hermione, she had actually tried to find more about magical culture. The Weird Sisters were just one of many magical pop groups. There were others out there, and there were children's stories out there, novels and short stories, but they didn't have movies even though they had mirrors although Charlotte had heard of some countries make use of them to perform the magical equivalent of TV shows.

But it was becoming increasingly clear to her the magical world's imagination didn't really stretch that far. She was surprised by that. From a muggle perspective, dragons and fairies were mythical. To a witch or a wizard, they were fact and nothing to be excited about, and she was surprised witches and wizards only wrote about adventures involving ancient wizards and creatures. There were even a few magical detectives, she had seen copies of those novels in Diagon Alley, and she had read a few of them. That was fine, but a little imagination would go a long way.

"Yeah," she replied. "The author is called HG Wells. He wrote a number of novels, although _War of the Worlds _is one of the most well known of his work," she went on, making a mental note to introduce this guy to not only _Alice in Wonderland, _but _The War of the Worlds, _and maybe even _The Jungle Book, _or _White Fang. _

"Wow!" Cedric gaped when the movie ended. He had been shocked by the nuclear explosion and how bright it was, and the ending of the movie, but it had certainly opened his mind. "Are there other movies in your collection?"

Charlotte chuckled at his enthusiasm. Cedric reminded her a little bit of Arthur Weasley who had interrogated her more than once about the different muggle things she had brought with her to the Burrow even if she found the man's patronising comments more than she could take, and how he dropped in comments about magical things that were supposedly better without even taking into account muggles hadn't even _heard _of those spells or potions, but Cedric seemed more open-minded than most.

"Of course," she smiled at him in amusement, shifting around a bit but she found herself staring into Cedric's eyes. She became lost in them for a moment before she almost looked away when her logical reasoning returned. As a little girl she had longed for a family, children and a husband although she had no intention of having the same type of life of drudgery that her aunt had lived. That was the best way to describe it, really; all Petunia had done all day every day was cook and clean (whenever Charlotte wasn't press-ganged into it) and gossiped all day. When she had begun her career as a criminal, she hadn't lost her desire for children although as she had gone through life she had been put off marriage until the idea alone had withered and rotted in her mind.

Dumbledore's latest stunts with Weasley had further killed her hopes, although she would rather be a mother than a wife, especially to someone like that.

But Cedric….Charlotte wasn't clear. She honestly didn't know if she loved the handsome guy. Sadly she had never really known what love was; the Dursleys had treated her like she was dirt, and the staff working at the foster home had either been too busy taking care of the other children or they had just seen her as yet another mouth to feed. Dumbledore could say whatever he wanted, Black and Lupin could say whatever they wished as well, she simply had no idea what love was.

However, she was good at following her instincts. Slowly, hesitantly, Charlotte leaned forwards and kissed Cedric on the lips. She felt him stiffen up and she was about to pull away in disappointment her first true kiss - the times where she'd needed to use her natural beauty while dressed like a slut to get something she either needed or wanted hadn't really involved kisses like this, but full-on snogs - was a disaster, but then she felt something incredible.

Cedric was kissing her back. Charlotte kissed back harder, but gently. Time seemed to stand still for the couple, and Charlotte was disappointed that there weren't any butterflies in her stomach, like she had read about in a really tacky romance novel but she felt that this was still an incredible event, until they pulled up for air.

Charlotte panted a little bit to breathe some air into her lungs, and she looked into Cedric's face. He was just as breathless, but there was a goofy smile on his face.

"Do you wan-want to stay, take this upstairs?" she whispered, inwardly cursing herself for saying such a pathetic pick-up line. She wondered if Cedric would even want to be with her…She shifted a little against his body, and she felt something poking into her that she had felt several times in the past.

Cedric had an erection.

She looked up at him with a smirk and shifted herself so then she rubbed against his erection which made Cedric groan in pleasure a little bit before he looked down at her in surprised lust.

"Someone definitely thinks so," she teased.

Cedric growled and she found herself in his arms kissing him for all he was worth.

XXX

Charlotte smiled as she burrowed herself into Cedric's side while he held her. There was a light sheen of sweat covering their bodies. "That was lovely," she whispered.

"Mm," Cedric smiled in agreement as he looked down at her. Charlotte's short hair was streaked with sweat, all the work which had gone into it was ruined but somehow it made her look so much sexier.

Her expression was dreamy, but she was no longer wearing those glasses which produced an illusion of Charlotte having two eyes instead of the one. Charlotte had been embarrassed about that, but Cedric reassured her. He knew what she had been through. It had horrified him what Susan had done, he had seen the blood on the floor as well as the shattered glasses Charlotte had been wearing when Susan had attacked her. And when he had seen the damage for real during that confrontation with Fleur in the Wand Weighing, he had been more upset for her than repulsed by her.

It bothered him although it didn't truly surprise him that Charlotte would have such self-esteem issues but what did surprise him the most was that she seemed embarrassed for _his sake _than for her own. It was clear she wanted to make a good impression for him, although he was uncertain why. But he wished she didn't feel that she needed to put on a show or something like that.


	15. Chapter 15 Home Truths of the GWL

The Hell of Fourth Year.

Cedric woke up when he felt something light jump onto his chest, and he heard the sound of a cat purring. He lifted his head and in the darkness he found the outline of a cat on his chest.

"Hello," Cedric whispered, pulling out a hand from under the covers, feeling the soft warmth of Charlotte who was curled up next to him, and taking care not to wake her, he stroked the cat gently. "You must be Nightstar."

Nightstar purred, and he smiled as he felt the cat gently push her head into his hand. Cedric smiled and rewarded the cat with a few more strokes before she settled down on his chest, purring away. Cedric patted her gently on her flank, wondering to herself why Weasley had tried to kill the cat. A part of him wondered what Charlotte would have done to the redheaded twat. He shuddered when he realised he _really _did not want to know. Knowing Charlotte, Weasley would probably have died.

Cedric let out a soft sigh as he rested his head back down on the pillow, smiling as he felt Charlotte shift slightly in her sleep before he took in the rest of the bedroom. Light was only just starting to come through the curtains, so Cedric guessed it was nearing daybreak. He turned his head to check the clock. It was almost six in the morning, but he didn't care while he lightly kissed Charlotte on the head, and he thought about the night before, and he also had time to reflect on how he saw Charlotte.

He wasn't sure if he loved her. Cedric had felt sorry for the girl when the entire school had turned on her while nobody bothered to help her, and as the weeks had passed, going through the Wand Weighing, the First Task…Cedric had found himself fascinated by Charlotte, but the problem was he didn't know if he loved her or not, and if she did love him or not.

A groan next to him announced Charlotte was waking up, and he looked down at her as she woke up. But as Charlotte woke up, the light outside which was slowly brightening up, shone on her body. Cedric watched her. And then he paused as something about Charlotte's body caught his attention, and he leaned in closer, making sure he didn't get in the way of the light.

There were scars on Charlotte's back. They were old, but they looked so _deep _when they were inflicted, they must have seriously hurt like hell. Cedric leaned in closer, trying to think of what in the name of Merlin had happened, and who had done it to Charlotte in the first place.

But as he leaned in to take a closer look Cedric noticed something else, the scars were partially healed despite being deep. It showed they had been left like this for years, and only now it looked like she had undergone some really strong magical therapy to repair the damage. But why hadn't it happened as soon as Charlotte walked into Hogwarts in the first place?

"My muggle relatives."

Cedric almost jumped when he heard Charlotte's voice. The girl was wide awake, and he wondered when she had woken up and became alert enough to ask that question with such clarity. He lifted his gaze and saw her face. Charlotte didn't look angry, rather resigned and solemn.

"What?" he whispered, halting the automatic apologies that wanted to burst from his throat at invading Charlotte's privacy in this manner with some effort.

"My muggle relatives," Charlotte repeated, a dark look entering her one remaining eye as she thought about the people who had hurt her. "They did this to my back. I've got other scars on other parts of my body."

"They look partially healed, " he commented, for lack of anything else he could say to her, but what could he say now he knew the Girl Who Lived had been abused?

"It was a long time ago," Charlotte shrugged like it was no big deal, but Cedric could see from her angry expression that Charlotte had taken the pain and had done something with it. And she had forgotten and forgiven no-one. He had seen that expression before, when she had turned Weasley into a spider.

That reminded him, he needed to find out what was going to happen with the obnoxious fool.

"Why, what happened?" Cedric asked, deciding to push the subject along so he could satisfy his immediate curiosity. In any case, the implications were horrific; Cedric had heard rumours brought home by his father about the horrors muggles inflicted sometimes on their children if they exhibited signs of magic, but this was the first time he had ever seen a confirmed case. The fact it was Charlotte Potter, the Girl Who Lived….

Cedric had no idea what could happen if the news broke out, but he knew one thing; many people would seriously begin hating muggles, and if he were frank with himself he doubted he could care.

Charlotte sighed as she shifted around so she was sitting on her buttocks and she brought her legs up under her chin. "My….relatives," she said the word as if she couldn't find the right word to describe them, "hated magic. I don't know when it started. My guess is, in my aunt's case…it started around the time my mother showed her powers. I never found out the full story, and it makes little difference to me now. My uncle…he always hated anything he found abnormal, freakish…that's how he described it. I didn't know my own name until I was in primary school," she lifted her head at the horrified Cedric. "My name was always _girl, _or _freak, _depending on the day."

She looked away with a sigh, cursing the fact this whole mess had just come up. But she knew it had only been a matter of time before Cedric had seen the scars. He wasn't stupid, at some point he would have noticed them. In some way it was her own fault, she should have realised the danger, but truthfully with so many people waking up to the fact she wasn't the pushover they'd assumed she was, she didn't care. Besides, what could Cedric do? Charlotte had realised long ago she could stand up and scream about what the Dursleys were doing to her in that House of Horror they lived in on that boring street of mindless simpletons until either Vernon smacked her on the head, or Dumbledore interfered. No one would help.

Even now no-one had asked her questions about her upbringing. Pomfrey had noticed the scars, but Charlotte had known nothing would happen then, and Dumbledore would hush everything up.

She blew out a breath to assemble her shattered thoughts when Cedric asked the most logical question of all. "But why, why would anyone leave you there? Who left you there?"

Charlotte lifted her head, and in the light of the room, obscured by curtains, her expression alone showed the ice-cold rage she still felt. "Dumbledore. Dumbledore left me there. He left me, on the doorstep, shortly after my mother and father were murdered."

She turned her head away and looked down between her legs. "I learnt occlumency early when I went into the magical world, Cedric; I got my hands on a reputable book, and I practiced. Did you know your mind is always gathering information and storing it, even when you're asleep? I never did, not until I read that book. I heard the voices of McGonagall, Hagrid, and Dumbledore. All three of them left me on that doorstep; McGonagall made some effort to stop Dumbledore from leaving me there since she had been watching the Dursleys all day and saw from that one day what kind of people they really were, although that's putting it mildly since the old bitch quickly stopped since Dumbledore overrode her."

Cedric had been listening, transfixed with disgust that two senior members of Hogwarts would just leave a baby on a doorstep after her parents were murdered, and that one of them had _seen _what they were like and yet had still gone along with it. It was an open secret McGonagall mindlessly obeyed all of Dumbledore's instructions; you picked that up after a bit of time at the school, but for it to come out like this….It was unthinkable that the transfiguration mistress would be a party to abuse.

"Those scars….they look….healed," he commented awkwardly, unsure of what he could say, but he quickly kicked himself when he realised he was repeating himself, but he couldn't suck the words back into his mouth.

"I recently saw a….specialist, and they immersed me in a bath of a healing potion which repaired some of the damage," Charlotte replied, "but the problem is some of them will stay with me until I die. Oh, some of the scars I had are gone; it was like a kid had taken a pencil and left squiggly marks all over my body, but the really deep ones will remain."

Cedric didn't know what unnerved him the most; the fact Charlotte had said it so matter of factly, in such a tone, or the fact it had happened at all. "Dumbledore didn't do anything, did he?"

It was kind of disappointing for the wizard that someone as renowned as Dumbledore would be like this; ever since he had woken up and had seen the rotten flesh right beneath the appearance of Hogwarts, Cedric's view and opinion of the old wizard had started to look bleak. His parents had always respected Dumbledore, but they weren't diehard fanatics like the Weasleys or some of the other Gryffindor aligned families, and they had taught him to be respectful in turn.

Not anymore.

Cedric had sent letters to his parents to let them know of what had happened as the year had passed, and what had been happening to Charlotte; his father had been happy to boast about his achievement at the Quidditch match last year against Charlotte, ignoring conveniently the match in question had been when Dementors had swarmed over the pitch, but when Cedric had sent back pensieve memories of what had happened and what he had seen, his parents had been just as horrified, especially when they saw the memory of Charlotte sobbing in his arms and the one where he saw close up the empty cavity where her eye had been.

Okay, he had taken a perverted pleasure with that. His father had been all set to boast that not only had he won against the Girl Who Lived in a Quidditch match, although what good that would do for him long term was beyond him, but he was a competitor in the Tournament as well!

The sight of Charlotte crying and the loss of her eye had killed that, stone dead. At last his father had gained some degree of humility and had opened his eyes to the pain and trauma Charlotte was going through.

Well, from what he had heard from the messages from home, it would be more accurate to say his mother had ensured his father saw that it wasn't a good thing everyone was tormenting the younger Champion. Charlotte had never planned or even wanted to be a part of the farce the Tournament had turned out to be.

"No," Charlotte's voice was cold and harsh. "He never bothered to check on my progress. No-one did; McGonagall didn't give a toss, and even if she did I would have seen or noticed her. I...learnt the mind arts, Cedric. A benefit of that is I have a great recall over my memories, even when I'm asleep. The bitch raised concerns, yes, but a few words from Dumbledore, and she didn't say anymore. That's it. Her brain isn't wired up to be subtle since she lets Dumbledore make the decisions for her, and if she had arrived she would have stood out although her cat form would have been impossible to detect, I don't remember seeing a cat like that at any point during my childhood there. But Dumbledore certainly didn't seem to care much to visit. But even if he had….I doubt he would have done anything. He wanted me in that house, and after everything he has done so far, I think he is deliberately shaping my entire life and my outlook."

"What do you mean?" Cedric asked in concern, not liking what he was hearing although he filed away the mention Charlotte knew the mind arts. He wondered what else she knew about the more obscure magical arts.

"Dumbledore has spent all of these years influencing me, Cedric. I read the Hogwarts by-laws; all muggleborns or muggle raised children - me, in other words, should be met by a professor, one experienced with muggles enough to not be noticed."

"So?"

"Why did Dumbledore send Hagrid, of all people?" Charlotte asked, looking at him strongly. The fact she was doing it all with the one eye just emphasised it even more. "Loveable guy aside, Hagrid is the last person anyone would send. Cedric, he was mouthing off about muggles, and his size made it impossible for him to blend in. For muggleborns to be introduced into the wizarding world, you need someone who will know how to be subtle and would know to keep their comments to themselves. Hagrid isn't discreet, and he can't keep his mouth shut. On top of that, when we were in Diagon Alley, he kept dropping hints about Slytherin House. You know, the usual crap; Slytherins are evil, no witch or wizard who went bad didn't pass through that House. Cedric, I lived in an abusive home, and I grew up in the cold alleys of London, I also saw the cruelty of human beings like one time when I came across a corrupt politician wanting to level a neighbourhood to build something for his mates in its place, or when I met a paedophile who got his kicks torturing and raping little kids."

Cedric stiffened at the little story behind that, and he wondered what Charlotte had done.

His feelings must have shown because Charlotte noticed. "It's a long story, Cedric but the point is, I don't give a damn about the Houses. Why should I? They're just houses, each one of them is different from the others, and I know for a certainty they're not all black and white; some of the Death Eaters came from various Houses, including Gryffindor. I fooled Dumbledore and Hagrid into thinking I was agreeing with them. I only went into Gryffindor because Draco Malfoy was acting like an obnoxious little cumstain. Actually," Charlotte cocked her head, "not a lot has changed."

Cedric snickered although he was concerned about the story and the fact Charlotte wouldn't drop hints about what had happened.

"But the point is, it wasn't just Hagrid shoving that propaganda down my throat. Weasley was as well, and it made me suspicious of him. I just played along with them. But you know what, all Houses have their good and bad points. When the Gryffindors disowned me, I already knew I wasn't welcome. When I was under the Sorting Hat, it said I would have done well in Slytherin."

Cedric gaped in surprise. In truth he wasn't surprised by the admission considering what he had just learnt about her, and what he had seen of her so far given how she had brought down the Alliance, how she'd cut down Skeeter, and set the record straight. From a prejudicial point of view, Charlotte had even fought like a Slytherin from one of those stereotypical stories about how vicious they were, but he was surprised she would admit it. Perhaps she no longer cared. She was no longer a Hogwarts student anymore, why should it matter if everyone knew that she had gone really close to wearing Slytherin colours?

But still….the sudden revelations made it hard for Cedric to concentrate on what it was they had been discussing just now. "Why would Dumbledore do that?"

"To control me. He had this…scheme when my name came out of the Goblet, that's why he ordered the teachers to do nothing for me. Got Pomfrey to bar me from the Hospital Wing. Allowing those stupid badges, and all the rest. I met him in McGonagall's office on the day you asked me to the Ball. He practical admitted to me that he regretted what Bones had done, but I don't doubt if he had the chance, he would make it all happen again. What makes it worse is the teachers let him get away with it."

Cedric looked troubled by what he was hearing; it was one thing witnessing and hearing about Dumbledore's acts of stupidity from someone like Madam Pomfrey, but hearing this from Charlotte made him wonder what was going on with the old headmaster.

"And he kept trying to push me towards Weasley as if my life and my relationships were his to tamper with," Charlotte finished.

Cedric didn't know what was worse. He didn't know if hearing how the Hogwarts Headmaster was going to such lengths to control people, even going as far telling people who to date and love, was something he did for kicks. For his own amusement. Sure, some would say Dumbledore was doing it for the good of the magical world, but Cedric didn't see how.

But the thing was many families set up betrothal contracts, but even some allowed their children to have separate dates if they wanted. The truth was they knew better than to meddle to that degree. In any case Dumbledore didn't have the right; he was a school teacher, and while he had important political positions, that did not give him the right to play games like this.

Merlin, no wonder Charlotte was angry with him.

Charlotte sighed. The subject was depressing enough, and besides, she wanted to go jogging. _Hmm, that's a thought, _she thought to herself when she glanced at Cedric. "Cedric, how would feel about jogging with me?"

She knew the Hufflepuff regularly went jogging to keep in shape, unlike several other witches and wizards, but she knew there were some students who jogged around the Black Lake to keep fit; they were mostly half-blood or muggle-born students, though the odd pureblood was added into the mix.

Cedric looked at her, surprised by the question.

"You don't have to, not if you don't want to," she pointed out.

Cedric smiled. "I'd love to, only," his smile faded a bit, "I haven't got anything."

Charlotte smiled back. "I think we can rectify that."

XXX

It never failed to amaze her how lovely and simple a jog was, and as she lightly jogged with Cedric jogging with her, Charlotte thought it was one of the best jogs she'd ever had.

Charlotte had sent Winky to the Hufflepuff dorm and Cedric had given the lovely House elf directions to where he kept his jogging clothes. Within a few minutes Winky came back with the clothes, and he and Charlotte headed off. Cedric had commented on how similar Charlotte's jogging routine was with his own, although different. Cedric jogged around a number of paths which interconnected several fields, dirt tracks. Charlotte jogged through a forest with a number of dirt tracks, and some nearby streets near fenced railway tracks.

Jogging through the forest, Charlotte saw the trees, the ones she used to perform stomach crunches upside down while she used her animagus form to provide her body with flexibility and the type of animal reflexes her human form simply did not possess. She had no intention of showing off to Cedric; while she liked him, she did not want anyone to know anything about her animagus abilities.

When the two returned to the windmill, both panting and exhausted from the jog even though their bodies were both fit enough to take the strain, Charlotte grabbed some glasses from a cupboard, and she poured water from the tap into them. She handed one of the glasses to Cedric, and she gulped down some water, thanking her lucky stars she'd placed some purification runes on the taps which removed all the muck muggles placed in the water these days.

Cedric also drank his water with relief. "Thanks," he whispered.

"My pleasure," Charlotte replied, sipping more water. "Do you want to hit the shower first, or do you want me to?"

Manners had been drummed into Cedric since he had been a child, so the response was quick. "You go first," he said to her.

Charlotte nodded. "Okay," she said, "Come with me."

Cedric followed Charlotte upstairs to where the shower was. She opened a cupboard and she pulled a large towel out and handed it to Cedric, who took it.

Charlotte then pulled out another which she took for herself. "Okay," she smiled. "I'll see you in a few minutes."

When Charlotte went into the bathroom, a few minutes later there was the sound of running water. Cedric felt rather silly holding a towel, so he laid it down on a couch, and he decided to have a quick look around while Charlotte was busy. As he looked around her windmill on the upper floor above the living room where they'd watched that movie the night before, he was attracted to a number of photographs.

Cedric walked over curiously, and he saw a handsome man with messy black hair and glasses with a beautiful woman who had a striking resemblance to Charlotte. They looked happy. Some of them showed a baby. "Her parents," he realised, looking sadly at them.

All this time, the British magical community had been lauding Charlotte as an unthinking hero as if the deaths of her parents had never happened, and they kept demanding more and more as if Charlotte was just something to mine from. Ever since Cedric had realised the truth of the Girl who Lived myth, his views of the magical community's treatment of its so-called heroes had become bleaker.

He sighed as she looked at the pictures. What had they been thinking at the time, he wondered. Had they been looking forwards to raising Charlotte, looking forwards to seeing her grow from a baby into a teenager, dreading tantrums, even having other children and raising them as well. Having a family, building a life….All gone. Lily and James Potter were both dead. Charlotte had been left on her own, without protection, without her parents to stop people and others from meddling in their daughter's life.

And no one cared that Charlotte was on her own, the last Potter. It disgusted him that everyone failed to see that, but what disgusted him the most was that everybody else, including Dumbledore, wanted more and more from the girl. It was no wonder Charlotte had snapped when she had.

Cedric sighed as he considered the waste of the loss of life.

He walked away from the pictures sadly, and he walked around the room. There were a number of bookshelves, but what interested him the most was a lit lamp. Curiously he walked over and saw a small mirrored box with a spider inside, a spider which was freaking itself out, moving from one corner of the mirrored cube and skittering around, doing it again and again.

Cedric snorted as he looked down at the spider. He knew who this was. Like most people who lived close to the Weasley family, Cedric knew Ron Weasley was frightened of spiders; the twins had joked about it for a long time, and while it was boring to listen to after a while he knew Weasley's fear of spiders was really acute.

As he looked down at the spider as it ran in the box, Cedric wondered what this would do for Weasley in the long term. He didn't really care, but it would be interesting to find out.

Like most people who knew him, Cedric had never liked Ron Weasley. Obnoxious, loud, ignorant, disgusting….and those were the polite adjectives to use on the bastard. As a spider, he was harmless, but Cedric hoped when Weasley was returned to normal, he learnt a lesson even if he wasn't intelligent enough to understand it. In any case, it would probably scar him, but Cedric found himself not caring.

Cedric turned around and looked around the study before he spotted something that caught his attention. There was an open scrapbook on the desk. Cedric went around the desk and looked.

There were newspaper articles in the scrapbook, muggle newspaper articles since none of the pictures were moving. Cedric narrowed his eyes before he flicked through before he stopped when one caught his eye.

**TOWER OF LONDON BREAK-IN! **

Cedric leaned over and read the story, becoming more and more surprised with each sentence which jumped out in front of him. Cedric knew, thanks to his father, the muggle Queen had jewels, but as he read the article and the scale of what the thief had achieved and how difficult it should have been to steal them in the first place, he realised it must have been protected in such a way that would have made it virtually impossible, or at the least extremely difficult for any thief to steal them.

But if the thief was a wizard or a witch….

Cedric flicked through the scrapbook, and his eyes popped when he saw a number of photographs.

Charlotte was sitting in an armchair, with a crown on top of her head, a crown glittering with jewels while she held a jewelled sceptre. In all of the photos, Charlotte was looking smug and proud of what she had managed to do. He looked closer at the photos and realised the girl was close in age to the one he knew.

Curious of when this theft even took place, Cedric flicked the pages back and he checked the article. The date jumped out at him. This theft…it took place before _Charlotte's __**Fourth **__year!_

Cedric flicked through the pages, and he found another article with a massive photograph of what looked like a painting of a woman sitting serenely in front of a countryside, this one in French but there was another one in English which made it easy for him to read. The painting, the _Mona Lisa, _was stolen from its art gallery, and from a photograph nearby he could see Charlotte had kept the painting in her windmill before he found an article where the painting was returned. But on the adjacent page, there were a number of what looked like receipts written in various texts, with numbers. Cedric cast a quick translation spell and saw they were for copies of the painting but he didn't understand why they would have copies of it when the painting was returned to the French.

After deciding to forget it, for the time being, Cedric went through the scrapbook, finding more articles of Charlotte's thefts, and he wondered what had possessed her to become a thief. And then he understood the truth.

She had been on the streets of London, or wherever, for a long time. At some point, she would have needed money, money for food, clothing. She would have had no choice but to steal it, and she would have gotten better. He remembered how she had fought in the First Task, how she had fought against everyone else, badly injuring them…

As he thought about it, Cedric realised the truth of the matter.

From what he had picked up from Charlotte, she had been forced to survive on the mean streets for virtually her entire life. Without anyone to protect or care for her, Charlotte would have needed to grow up quickly and she would have needed money, and he knew there were a few unpleasant ways it would have happened.

Theft was probably the best way Charlotte could have survived, it would have preserved her dignity. The thought of Charlotte selling herself for money disgusted him, but from what he knew of her, although this scrapbook certainly threw up doubt he knew Charlotte Potter at all although he knew that despite her being a criminal who stole, Cedric found it unthinkable Charlotte would sell herself for money. The young woman had an independent streak over three miles wide, for Merlin's sake.

"I wondered where you were."

Cedric turned around.

Charlotte was standing there, her hair wrapped up in a towel while she wore a fluffy dressing gown. Her expression was solemn, but what scared him the most was the wand in her hands.


	16. Chapter 16 The Second Task Cometh

The Hell of Fourth Year.

Cedric nodded warily at the wand clutched in Charlotte's hand. "What are you going to do with that?" he asked, knowing what she was capable with that wand.

Charlotte shrugged, but she pointedly put her wand away. "That's up to you," she remarked. "I just took it out of my holster out of reflex when I heard someone up here; I live alone, Cedric, and as a result, I tend to get jumpy even though I knew it was you."

She was lying. She had planned on cursing Cedric if he had found too much, erasing his memory of the event as well so then she could live with the guilt and he wouldn't remember it. But fortunately for Cedric, he hadn't gone anywhere near the red coloured scrapbooks. Those were the ones where she had used violence against her enemies whenever she'd burgled or robbed them. The Dursley articles were in one of those scrapbooks.

Fortunately, Cedric took the explanation. "Why?" he asked instead.

Charlotte crinkled her forehead. "You're going to need to be specific."

"Why become a thief?"

"Oh," Charlotte walked over to the window and gazed out at the view. She was silent for a moment and Cedric could see her reflection in the window she was looking thoughtful. Finally, she broke the silence. "I was trying to survive on the streets, but I had been a thief before that point. I told you earlier, the Dursleys abused me mentally as well as physically. They starved me as well, sometimes I would go days without a proper meal which was denied me because the Dursleys were punishing me either because my accidental magic had lashed out or because they were trying to bring me down. More than once, I was desperate for food. So I stole it. I stole food from my schoolmates, although they weren't my friends. They were a diluted version of the Dursleys; they hated me because they thought of me as nothing more than a freak, and they judged me because of my height, my clothes which were nothing more than recycled rags. They had been lied to about me, told I was a freak, and my parents were layabouts, shit like that.

"I stole small amounts of food, but later on I discovered a way of harnessing my magic. Nothing major at the time; just a few unlocking charms, and a notice-me-not charm which meant I could leave the Dursleys, and steal from the neighbours. I didn't feel any guilt then and I feel nothing now. I would still do it," Charlotte turned to Cedric solemnly as she remembered those days when she had once wrestled with her conscience before she realised she was doing it all to survive, "if I had no choice. I didn't just steal food. I stole money as well, just to be on the safe side. I didn't know at the time what the Dursleys had in mind for me in my future, but I knew it would be nothing good."

Charlotte sighed and looked away, her mind full of memories of those horrible years on Privet Drive where she was frightened if she was even going to be alive by the end of the week.

"What really happened to make you leave the Dursleys, Charlotte?" Cedric asked.

"They killed a kitten I had found outside. I had foolishly taken it into my cupboard; I was planning on sending it away so then it would live. Unfortunately, the Dursleys found it."

Cedric went very still when he overheard the rage starting to build in Charlotte's voice.

"The kitten let out a meow one night, and when they heard it the Dursleys went berserk. They didn't like animals, and cats even more so. As soon as they saw the kitten in my cupboard, my uncle grabbed it. I begged them not to kill it, but they wouldn't listen. I had to listen to the sound of the kitten meowing in fear as my filthy muggle uncle broke its neck. The animals threw the kitten's corpse into my cupboard, and I cradled it in my arms and cried myself to sleep that night, unable to take my eyes off of its body. I could swear I saw the accusation in the kittens' eyes when I looked into her eyes."

Cedric was already still, but he remembered hearing of what had happened on the night Charlotte's name was picked out of the Goblet of Fire. "And when you saw Nightstar about to go through the same thing…."

"History repeating itself. I had sworn never to allow any other cat in my care to go through the same thing." Charlotte scoffed, but Cedric could see her expression and realised her anger was very close to the surface. Just one wrong move and it would be set off. "Weasley has no idea how lucky he was, Cedric. I was so tempted to kill him that night, but there were too many Gryffindors and I was outnumbered. In any case, I was more interested in making sure Nightstar was okay."

"I can understand that," Cedric replied, hiding his unease with how easily Charlotte spoke about killing others as though it was not too different from walking through a door. But then he suddenly had a good idea what had happened with these Dursleys, it had been there from the moment Charlotte let her anger out, anger stoked by the stupid Gryffindors. "What happened with the Dursleys, Charlotte?" he asked, deciding to keep on pressing the issue although he wasn't going to intrude too much into Charlotte's privacy.

Charlotte sighed. "I spent a long time thinking about what they had done, and I realised that sooner or later they were going to do the same thing to me. I had been beaten by them so many times, and I was always surprised with my rapid recovery; I have never worked out what caused that, although there are one or two suspicions in my head. But anyway, the Dursleys had nearly killed me a few times; one time, I was kicked so hard in the chest, I was afraid I had a punctured lung. The death of the kitten only frightened me that one day the Dursleys would go too far, and I would die. I could see it, Cedric, I saw my own death. I saw myself being punched and kicked so hard that one of the blows would eventually snap one of my ribs, and a lung would be punctured. I had no intention of dying. One day I was in the library of the muggle primary school, and I read a novel about a murder mystery. I was so enthralled by what I read, I decided to murder the Dursleys.

"I didn't do anything elaborate, although I had already planned on using a basic method of killing them. But one night I killed them in an act of magically induced rage. They were tormenting me again, mouthing off about my parents. At the same time, I used my shaky control over my magic to guide a number of knives, sharp ones, and they killed the Dursleys either by stabbing them or slashing them. When I realised what I had done….I felt like I had just woken up from a long nightmare, only to discover it wasn't a nightmare but reality. I took what I thought I could use, and then I set fire to the house before I left for London."

Cedric licked his lips. He didn't know what to think, but he could see from that haunted expression on Charlotte's face she genuinely felt some degree of remorse for what she had done, even if she didn't regret it completely. "And then you found yourself on the streets?" he picked out the part of the story he knew already, thanks to the time Charlotte had first come into Hogwarts and opened up about some of the things she had been through over the years, and what she had told him earlier when he had seen the scars on her naked body.

"Essentially, yes," Charlotte confirmed, blinking her remaining eye underneath her sunglasses. "I went right into London that very night, and then I quietly merged into the background of the streets while being alert for any word the muggle police were actively searching for me. I spent months learning how to pickpocket, and I used the money I took to buy myself the bare essentials. For a time I went down to the coast. I just wanted to see the sea, listen to the sound of the waves as they crashed onto the beaches. I just wanted to see something different," she finished with a shake of her head.

Charlotte went silent again, and Cedric watched her for a moment, wondering what was going on inside that mind of hers. He could tell already that Charlotte didn't like speaking about her past, especially like this. He cursed himself for breaking into her private life without thinking of the consequences, but when he had started he hadn't been able to stop.

Finally, Charlotte broke the silence, much to his relief. The silence had been getting uncomfortable.

"As the years passed, I became better at theft, and then I became a burglar. I joined a gang of burglars, at first. They were in their mid to late teens, maybe in their early twenties, or something like that. They found me inside one of the houses they were burgling from, and they took me in with them for a time, showed me the ropes. But I got myself put into foster care," she looked down as she remembered the day she had made that decision, and she shook her head.

"I was so tired of constantly being on the move, and always wondering where my next meal was going to come from, and what I was going to do about the heat, so I gave myself up. I wandered into a police station years after I'd killed the Dursleys, and I gave them a false second name so they wouldn't join the dots," Charlotte went on, remembering the day well; she had nearly chickened out since the police would guess the Dursleys were murdered from what they'd found in the wreckage of the burnt-out shell of a house.

"But you still committed thefts," Cedric pointed out while she remembered those difficult days in the foster home since she had been programmed by her time on the mean streets of London, and when she had been with the Dursleys to always pretend she didn't exist before she suddenly found herself in place watched over by adults and kids younger or slightly older than herself and finding herself immersed up to her scalp in all kinds of dramas which made her question if her decision was a wise one or not.

Charlotte snorted and turned to face him. "You make it sound like a bad thing," she pointed out with a hint of defensiveness in her voice. "Yes. I was still a thief, but I always kept what I did as lowkey as possible. Well, except for that time when I stole an old Rembrandt and netted a nice profit for myself. You need to bear in mind I didn't have access to the Potter family vaults. Hell, back then I didn't even _know _they existed."

Cedric sighed, seeing that he wasn't going to convince her that in truth he didn't particularly care about what she had needed to do to survive since he guessed, if he was in her shoes, he would have done the same. He got that, but still at the same time, he had to accept he had no hope of understanding truly what she had gone through during her life of horrors. "I'm not having a go at you," Cedric said looking at Charlotte sadly that she thought he was. "I just wanted to make sure I was right.'

"About what?"

"You've gone through so much, and you deserve so much better," he said.

"Do I?" Charlotte replied, looking bitterly at him. "Say that to Albus Dumbledore; he has spent my whole life manipulating it, and even now he is trying to get someone whom I can't even stand to be my boyfriend. In any case, I already had a plan to escape him."

"You did?" Cedric asked although he wondered why he was so surprised since she had spent her entire life surviving, and now in hindsight her talk from earlier about how she had tricked Hagrid and Weasley into thinking their talk about Slytherin had a major effect on her. At the same time, he reflected on her sneakiness and the fact she had managed to keep her double life a secret from everyone as well as some of her abilities, like her vicious fighting technique since she no longer seemed bothered about hiding herself anymore.

Charlotte nodded, inwardly wondering to herself just how much she could tell him. Okay, so she had a different plan in mind now, but some aspects of her original still needed to remain _secret. _"I had planned on skipping the country after I'd done my OWLs," she went on, wondering if she should just stop this fucking conversation now and wipe Cedric's memory up to a certain point.

The longer this conversation went on, the more likely it would be that it would happen although she felt that it made little difference to her longterm plans if Cedric did know about her being a thief. She had a good impression of him and his character already. She doubted very much he would blab about her past, not that she was truly worried since the magical world genuinely did not care if witches or wizards became thieves and stole from muggles. They only kicked up a major fuss if said witches and wizards actually used magic in front of muggles.

Yeah, he may not tell anyone about what she'd done because of his honesty, but she was just concerned that if she told him too much then Dumbledore would see it in his mind. Cedric had passable occlumency barriers, yes, but they weren't strong enough to strong a master like Dumbledore from poking and prodding. When she had been learning and practicing occlumency when she had first arrived in the magical world, Charlotte had needed time to work out the best means of protecting her mind without the slimy bastards from going through her longterm plans. Ironically enough, it had been Dumbledore himself who had provided the answer with the Potter Invisibility Cloak. She had received it after recording up to over 478 separate attempts to look into her mind; usually, it was Snape who was responsible given she had been exposed to the greasy potions teacher more times than she would have wished, but she had felt Dumbledore try nonetheless.

In the old days, she had felt the best way to hide her true thoughts was to move them inconspicuously around while Snape and Dumbledore weren't aware of what she was doing. But it wasn't until her first Christmas at the school she had found something better. She practically draped her thoughts behind invisibility barriers while she pretended to showoff other thoughts that presented her as a vapid girl.

It hadn't been difficult since both Snape and Dumbledore had their own ideas of what she was really like. Unfortunately, that mess in second year where everyone had turned on her, and then Nightstar became petrified had sent up red flags. Suddenly she found it harder to prove to everyone she was vapid but was in fact very dangerous.

At the same time, she had pictured a library to hide and organise her thoughts, although she had needed to formulate defensive plans to entrap anyone who got through her invisibility barriers.

But Cedric didn't have her desire to truly hide her thoughts and her memories, and he had decided not to improve his mental defences although he knew whenever somebody did penetrate.

"You were planning on skipping the country?" Cedric repeated although he wasn't surprised if he looked at it from her perspective.

"Yeah, does it surprise you?" Charlotte nodded.

"No, especially not after hearing your story."

Charlotte bit her lip before she glanced at the clock. "Listen, do you think its a good idea to take this downstairs; you can have your shower and I can cook us something to eat. We can talk downstairs."

Cedric was surprised by the change of subject, but he nodded when he caught a whiff of his body odour. "Okay," he said, walking out of the room while Charlotte watched him go. She fingered her wand….

XXX

Cedric smiled as he smelt the rich smell of bacon and sausages and black pudding coming from the kitchen. After he had dried himself down and got himself dressed in his rumpled shirt and trousers which had been part of his dress robes from the night before, he went downstairs and smiled as he took in the sight of Charlotte cooking at the cooker.

"That smells amazing, Charlotte," he complimented after he had walked down and wrapped his arms around her stomach.

Charlotte giggled. "I aim to please," she smiled happily at him inwardly pleased they had reached an understanding about what he had found in the scrapbook.

Cedric had been halfway down the stairs to the shower when he had turned around - Charlotte had no idea what he had planned to do or say - but he had realised what she had been about to do, and he had become angry. Charlotte had quickly shut him up and said that for a long time she had been keeping everyone at arm's length, that she didn't want anyone interfering with her affairs. As she had reminded him of the things people like Dumbledore and Voldemort had either destroyed or manipulated her life as if it were their natural right to do so without any thought about her long-term damage, she hadn't had much difficulty making Cedric see things from her point of view, but he had still been angry with her because he had a good idea of what she would have done if he hadn't turned around when he had.

It had been a remark he had dropped that had made Charlotte see just how far she had nearly fallen.

"Do you want to become like Dumbledore, because from what you've just told me wiping someone's memory is the sort of thing he would think of."

The remark had shaken her, so much so she had dropped her wand and she had begun to sob her heart out. Charlotte had spent years trying so hard to avoid the old man.

The sight of her crying had shaken Cedric, and it was a testament to his time with Chang he knew the difference between crocodile tears and genuine tears. Still, she had explained why she had been so prepared to wipe his memory when he had wrapped her in his arms although she knew he had been cautious; even without her wand, Cedric knew she was not someone to play games with. She had told him that Snape and Dumbledore could look past his mental barriers, and if they discovered some of her plans then they would interfere even if their current situation made it harder for them to do so, but they could find ways of setting up stumbling blocks Charlotte would have had trouble bypassing.

Cedric wasn't surprised by the admission Snape and Dumbledore could read minds. He already knew it. He knew most professionals of the mind-arts had a master trick to make people look into their eyes, but despite his own knowledge in occlumency it hadn't stopped Snape looking into his mind. It was one of the slimy potion master's tricks; look into a students mind so then he could find the best way to undermine and hurt the student. But once she had told him the why, Cedric understood her reasoning although he was still put out with her. In the end, he had made a magical vow to never reveal her secrets, and a promise to develop his occlumency training. Charlotte knew from experience that wouldn't be difficult; since Cedric knew what Snape and Dumbledore were capable of, it would be simplicity in itself to mentally organise the memories of the conversation and find a way to hide them inside his mind.

She only hoped Cedric became proficient enough to hide his memories, but she knew he would do so. Still, she didn't like the way this man had come into her life and had made her face parts of her personality she hadn't even realised she had until they were thrown in her face; the very thought she had nearly tried to do something Dumbledore would have done without question filled her with self-loathing especially since she knew he was right.

She knew she would need to amend her ways, but that was the hardest task of all; she had spent years on the streets thinking and caring about nothing but number one, after all. At the same time when she had arrived at Hogwarts and discovered the scale of Dumbledore's manipulations in the form of Weasley and Granger and the resurgent threat of Voldemort, she had needed to protect herself. Granted, she knew she had adopted Dumbledore's "the ends justify the means" approach, but she had never wiped the memories of anyone before now, but she had been prepared for it nonetheless.

So now Charlotte was left with a big question, one she didn't like the implications of.

Was she like Dumbledore already after she had spent so long trying to avoid being like the old wizard?

XXX

As Professor Flitwick observed from his specially made chair in the staffroom a few days after the Yule Ball the body language of the teachers, he had a few moments to reflect on the last few days. With the Yule Ball on and the usual Christmas holidays ending, the students would be returning to the school shortly. In preparation for the resuming of the school year, it was customary for the Hogwarts staff to have a meeting anyway, but with the Tri-wizard tournament in place, the staff meeting was more important since they needed to make sure any last-minute plans were addressed.

Flitwick was prepared for any new bombshells Dumbledore had to drop on them for this, and judging from her expression so was Minerva since they knew Dumbledore's fixation over Charlotte Potter would mean the old wizard would be focused on her.

Flitwick had no idea what the second task of this iteration of the Tournament would involve, but he knew enough of the competition to know the champions would be forced to rescue someone precious to them. He had no idea if that was the case now, but it wouldn't surprise him.

When the final few teachers came through the door, Dumbledore lifted his wand and silently locked it before he looked around the room with a benign smile.

"Now then, with the students returning from the Christmas holidays the day after tomorrow, I want to know of any concerns over our classes before we get to the matter of the Tournament….," Dumbledore began.

The meeting concerning the school and the classes and the students themselves lasted for three hours. Much of it was mundane, especially since many of the teachers had brought their concerns and their opinions forward before they got down to the matter of the problematic students. Dumbledore spared each one a few moments, discussing their problems and the issues they caused everyone else - some of them were bullies, but because Dumbledore never truly punished the students, instead believing the best way to deal with them was to essentially turn a blind eye especially if they were bullying other students, the staff were limited about what they could do.

Flitwick had sighed irritably when the matter came up. He had been Head of Ravenclaw and had been teaching with Albus Dumbledore long enough to realise the fool would do nothing, but what annoyed the Charms Master the most and what offended him the most was this man, who primarily thought of himself as a teacher even if he hadn't actually properly taught a class for years since his many positions made it impossible, was the man seemed to have forgotten what being a teacher entailed. Dumbledore would just say they were missing home or something insane like how their bullying was harmless banter or something like that. And then he would say the students needed to be given space to allow them to know their transgressions would be forgiven.

It was times like that Flitwick asked himself who had the bright idea of giving Albus Dumbledore so many positions while at the same time allowing him to be Headmaster of Hogwarts. It made no sense because Dumbledore never actually did any of the work, and on top of that, every time the matter of bullying came up, and it did come up, Dumbledore dismissed it.

This year was no different. Hadn't the simpleton learnt from his mistakes this year? Not only was he indirectly responsible for the physical assault on a girl whose only crime was getting her name called out as a champion of the Tournament, but he had come up with the insane plan to ban every teacher from helping her. And here he was, telling the teachers not to put a stop to the bullying which still ran rampant in the school.

It was with some relief Dumbledore brought the matter to the topic of the tournament. "Now that is over," he said, although the tone of his voice indicated they would be meeting again soon when the students who'd left the school for the holidays came back, "we can turn our attention to the matter of the Tournament."

"What is happening in the second task?" Flitwick masked his smile thanks to his years of control, but he had to admire Snape's bluntness.

While he didn't like Snape's manner especially since he seemed to refuse to grow up, Flitwick wished Dumbledore was short, sharp, and to the point.

"It has been decided the champions will be made to work together as a team to rescue those whom they hold most dear," Dumbledore replied, unaware Flitwick had noticed how unhesitant and clear he had replied to Snape; no-one truly understood Dumbledore's trust in the Death Eater who was already seen as a pet by many, but they had all noticed Dumbledore spent more time in Snape's company than any other teacher. Even Minerva barely spent as much time as Snape did with the old wizard, which made some wonder what was going on.

"A team?" Pomona repeated, looking at the headmaster as if she didn't know what the word meant. "I thought all the champions were meant to work separately."

"When the Tournament was reinstated for this generation, this year, that was the goal," Dumbledore explained grimly, letting some of the mask he always wore of an old man who was still full of energy to fall, showing instead the face of a man who had spent many long hours coming up with something big. "However, after the last task where all of the champions and the ones who joined in the First Task to aid them were badly injured, myself, Mr Crouch, and the other organisers agreed it was not a good idea. The press statement will say we wanted the Second Task to show how each champion can work with each other."

"Have the champions been told?" Minerva asked, although by her tone she knew there was a likelihood Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour had, but not Charlotte or Cedric.

"I don't know," Dumbledore said, and they could tell he meant it since he wasn't trying to throw them off with some ridiculous half-truth. "However I wouldn't be surprised."

"So the champions are going to rescue people important to them from something in the task, and they're going to work together? Is that normal for the Tournament?" Professor Sinistra asked.

"Not as such, however it has been occasionally put into effect to give the Tournament a new twist," Dumbledore answered, "to make it more exciting."

Flitwick raised an eyebrow. He doubted that had been the reason… "Or is it because none of the organisers, headmasters included as well as Ministry people, particularly wants Charlotte Potter to put more people into hospital beds, Headmaster?" he asked slowly, able to see through the lines.

Everyone stilled. The idea had occurred to all of them, but none had wanted to voice it.

Dumbledore nodded slowly, a haunted look creeping over his face as he remembered the mess caused in the First Task. "Charlotte's actions in the First Task resulted in a lot of anger, especially from the parents of those who were injured by her. Many of them wanted Charlotte to pay for what she'd done before they learnt she was doing it for family, and they could do nothing. The other organisers refused to allow more students to be injured, especially the skilled ones since there was no guarantee they would come out without severe injuries."

"So you came up with this?" Poppy commented thoughtfully, however, there was an uncertain glint in her eye. She clearly didn't know for sure if this was a good idea or not, but she wasn't going to say anything clearly in case she was either right or wrong.

"Yes. We didn't want another incident."

"That's as may be, Albus," Minerva interrupted, looking at her old friend suspiciously. "But I think I've seen a flaw with your plan."

Dumbledore looked at McGonagall as if he couldn't believe what he had heard. "A flaw?"

"Yes. You said you were planning on the champions saving people precious to them, right?"

Flitwick saw where Minerva was going with this, as did everyone else.

"That is correct, my dear," Dumbledore replied, although Flitwick knew what she was going to say even if his guileless reply said otherwise.

"Then who will Charlotte be saving, especially since her friends deserted her and she has made it clear she would rather turn around and walk away than lift a finger to help anybody?" Minerva asked, folding her arms while glaring softly at Dumbledore. "And don't you dare say Ronald Weasley. Not only did he behave atrociously at the Ball, not only embarrassing Hogwarts and his family, but he also assaulted Charlotte. He hasn't returned to Hogwarts yet, and there is already speculation Charlotte has drowned him in spider form already. Put him in the task, and Charlotte won't do anything for him."

Dumbledore sighed. "Minerva, I am aware of that. I am also aware of Mr Weasley's absence. However I have someone else in mind," he added with a reassuring smile.

Minerva was not fooled. "Who, Albus?"

Dumbledore sighed again. "Hermione Granger. And before you say anything, Minerva, bear something in mind. Charlotte has no-one. Her family is dead. Her godfather is a traitor, and Remus Lupin was only in her life one year and he hasn't gotten involved with her since. My choice in this matter is limited."

Minerva sighed, but she knew Dumbledore had a point there.

The door suddenly opened and Charlotte stepped into the room.

"How did you open that door?" Professor Babbling demanded.

Charlotte ignored the question. Instead, she pulled out the small mirrored box she had used to hold Ronald Weasley in, and she placed it gently on the floor before she withdrew one of her wands. She flicked it silently and then she stood back and waited as the box reformed itself into a water goblet, and the trapped wizard within was returned to human form.

Instantly Poppy was on her feet while the other teachers took in Weasley's condition. Flitwick could see he looked awful. His dress robes looked more wrinkled than they had been during the Ball, but the state of the boy….

Dumbledore turned angrily to Charlotte when he had taken in his almost comatose state and his wide, blank stare which showed he hadn't slept in a while his face looked pale with fright. "What did you do to him?"

Charlotte lifted an eyebrow even as she regarded the old Headmaster with a cool manner.

"Nothing."

"What do you mean, you did nothing? You must have done something-."

"I did nothing. All I did was transform him into a spider and place him in a mirrored box while ensuring it was kept in a lit place. Spiders detest brightness and prefer dark corners. I took advantage of that and his fear of them. In that mirrored cube Weasley was unable to sleep, and every time he saw a reflection of himself, his arachnophobia got the better of him. It is not my fault he was stupid enough to attack me in the Yule Ball; that was because of you, and your stupid remarks to him I was going to be his girlfriend. As if I would date him," she finished, glaring at Weasley with contempt.

"You did not have to do this!" Dumbledore conveniently ignored the jab Weasley's condition was his fault.

"Yes I did," Charlotte's cool manner faded a little as she glared at Dumbledore. "The pig assaulted me in public, he almost ruined my evening. What did you expect I was going to do, just forgive him and dance with him as if nothing had happened?"

Flitwick smiled while he took a backseat to the proceedings.

It was far from over.

"You could have simply cursed him and left it at that," Dumbledore answered, "or you could have soothed his hurt feelings and danced with him."

"Hurt? I hurt him?" Charlotte's voice became amused even as she maintained her cool stance. "How?"

"You didn't dance with him. You proceeded to dance with someone else. Therefore you hurt his feelings. I know Mr Weasley was looking forward to dancing with you."

"Yeah, only because you told him it was going to happen," Charlotte pointed out. "It's academic now, I've brought him back. And no, I don't care what I did to him. I would do it again and again until he got the fucking hint to leave me alone. I'll see you at the Second Task, Headmaster, Professors. Goodbye for now."

Charlotte turned around and walked in the direction of the door, but she paused and she turned to Weasley. "That was your last warning, Weasley. The next time you cause problems, I will make certain your fear of spiders become a fear for cats. Not that you will live long enough for it to matter much in the long run."

Weasley was too out of it to properly answer her although Charlotte did not seem in the least bit concerned one way or another, and she just walked out of the staffroom without a look back - Flitwick guessed it would be some time before he returned to his usual self, but he only hoped the young wizard got the hint.

He had to accept Charlotte had been merciful, not like Dumbledore thought but then the old wizard would believe that type of retaliation had a price on ones' soul without realising no harm had truly come since Weasley was still alive, but her very real if unsaid threat she would transform him into something a cat would go for without hesitation if he didn't stop pestering her made it clear to the Charms Master Charlotte would carry out her threats to him.

What none of them realised, and wouldn't for some time, although whether or not they cared was an open question, was that Weasley was now infertile. Charlotte didn't want his genes to pollute the gene pool even more.

XXX

Remus winced as his nose wrinkled with the stench of booze, but he didn't turn around and walk away since he knew if he did then Sirius would probably drown himself in alcohol. His old friend had been like this ever since Charlotte had destroyed the mirror he'd sent her to speak with her to explain what had happened, and there was no chance it would end anytime soon.

Sirius was depressed enough since they had moved into his family home, a place he hated for so many reasons since he had so many dark memories here which were as depressing as the aura of the house itself. But if the house depressed him, the pain whenever Charlotte's name crept up and it did because Remus went out to get the newspapers which seemed to have an edition about her nearly every day, especially the part where she had stripped a large portion of the Daily Prophet's funding from them in such a ruthless manner it left Remus stunned.

But the reminders of Charlotte, the pictures especially the ones of the Yule Ball, which showed her so beautiful and graceful when she hadn't been attacked by Ron Weasley, were a painful knife to Sirius' soul.

And to Remus.

But the werewolf wasn't like his friend. Yeah, Remus wanted nothing more than to get rat-arsed drunk and just pretend all of his problems would go away for a spell, he knew he couldn't; werewolves hated alcohol since it always pushed the wolf into a vicious rage.

And so he was forced to watch as his last true friend drunk himself to death, bitterly torturing himself by sticking photographs of Charlotte - he had even found baby photos of her somewhere, Merlin knew where he'd found them - on the walls and he had promised he would murder Kreacher the House elf if he so much as lifted one-off, and cursing himself for stupidly going along with Dumbledore's sick plan. Remus had always respected and admired the old wizard, loving him for giving him an education and for giving him a chance, responsibility….but at this point, Remus hated the old wizard for putting him and Sirius in this mess with his poorly thought out plan to essentially give Charlotte no hope and to forbid them from helping her for some reason Remus now, in hindsight, wondered what the point of it all was.

While he would always be grateful to Dumbledore for everything, Remus would also remember the pain the old man had caused them with his badly thought out plans, plans and schemes Remus and Sirius had mindlessly followed.

Remus didn't understand what had possessed Dumbledore to come up with that scheme in the first place, and how it could be for Charlotte's benefit. But what sickened the werewolf the most was how they had just gone along with it, allowing Dumbledore to isolate the child Lily and James had borne, and they hadn't thought anything off about it even as the messages from Charlotte mounted up and up.

Remus flinched when he heard the shattering sound of another glass bottle, and he idly wondered if Sirius had hurled it against a wall or just dropped it before he decided it didn't matter. He still couldn't believe what the Marauders had been reduced to. The once legendary gang of Gryffindors from Hogwarts - one was dead, one had betrayed them all and snatched away the only child of their little gang her childhood and made her lonely forever, one had been thrown into Azkaban prison and as much as Remus would love to think otherwise, had probably not come out of the prison with all of his marbles intact. As for Remus himself, well he had done what he had always done.

Just walk away without a backward glance, ignoring his responsibilities and just fall into his old pattern of using the werewolf as a crutch to stop himself from having a life.

The Marauders…

Charlotte…

Remus closed his eyes, and he had to stifle the sob as it rose in his chest, remembering all of those days where James had boasted about the kids all of the Marauders were going to have, and they would have the new generation of pranksters going to Hogwarts. Only for Wormtail to tear it away, selling out Lily and James to that bastard Voldemort, and what had Remus and Sirius done? Sirius had gone off after Pettigrew and gotten himself thrown into prison while Remus had just walked away, not even sparing Charlotte a thought. He had always obeyed Dumbledore who said he couldn't go near the girl.

How he wished he had defied the old man now, especially since he knew she had escaped from the Dursleys. If he had just been a fucking man, maybe half of this mess would never have happened.

Remus flinched when he heard the sound of sobbing from Sirius. He was out of his depth since Sirius seemed determined to drink himself to death, and Charlotte had made it clear she wasn't going to forgive them. But he needed to do something. The werewolf turned around and headed for the sitting room of the house, ignoring the depressing Black family decor - he had wondered what in the name of Merlin the Black family had brought into this house to make the place so oppressive, now he didn't care since it matched his mood - and he sat down on one of the moth-eaten couches and he opened the newspaper.

As he had expected the paper was full of news of the Second Task of the Tournament, but as Remus read through the paper very little emerged about the actual details of the Task itself. That made sense. The Ministry wouldn't want anybody to have foreknowledge of what was going to happen in the Tasks since the surprise would be ruined. Remus rubbed his bristly chin thoughtfully, unsure of what to feel about this type of reporting; it was exceptionally rare for the Prophet to report on things like this and build the hype up and up. The Second Task of the Tournament was pretty much dominating the front page all the time now as the Ministry wanted the entire country to enjoy the infamous competition. It had become even more notorious ever since Charlotte had shown what she was capable of, only the Ministry in a very rare show of intelligence had begun used Charlotte to bolster the Tournament, although Remus didn't doubt Fudge would have wanted to lock Charlotte away in Azkaban out of fear of her becoming powerful enough to overthrow the Ministry or some nonsense like that.

There was no doubt in Remus' mind the Minister would think something like that. Fudge was super paranoid about people smarter than himself, and Remus had heard rumours of Fudge even thinking of ways of getting rid of people like Amelia Bones and Dumbledore. He would have taken one look at Charlotte and instead of bothering to see the girl just wanted to be left alone would begin seeing her as an enemy. Remus wondered what had happened to dissuade him from that course of action before he guessed Dumbledore had something to do with it.

The Ministry was shamelessly using Charlotte as the poster girl for the Tournament although Remus asked himself how she felt about it all, there was no way of finding out since he had no idea where Charlotte lived.

"Be safe, Charlotte," he whispered to himself as he looked at the moving picture of Charlotte which was a stock photo taken from the First Task. He didn't know what was going to happen, but he only hoped she got out of this safely.

XXX

In his office in the Ministry of Magic, Cornelius Fudge was pacing up and down thoughtfully - or rather what he believed was thoughtful - in actual fact, he paced up and down the room, fidgeting as he went.

The Second Task of the Tri-wizard Tournament was going to be taking place in a few days time, and Fudge wondered what was going to be happening with the youngest champion, Charlotte Potter. Fudge grimaced as he thought of the girl, thinking of all the trouble she had caused him. First during that business in her second year. He had believed he had placed the right culprit in Azkaban. How was he supposed to know Hagrid was in fact innocent?

And then, last year when Sirius Black had escaped, the girl had given him and his staff a lot of trouble since she had come out with a nonsense story that Black was innocent. Snape's story that she was confounded was clearly true.

And now this…

Charlotte Potter had somehow gotten herself put in the Tri-wizard Tournament, and by some stupid thought process from the niece of Amelia Bones, she had lost one of her eyes. Not that he cared that much, especially since he didn't want Potter to rise higher than she was already. He'd already had enough enjoyment of the situation as it was with the withdrawal of the Potter support of the Alliance. It was ironic Amelia Bones' stupid niece had done something for him that he had wanted.

And yet, Potter had shown how dangerous she was. Fudge had wanted to get the girl thrown into Azkaban without a trial and he could reassure the magical world the Ministry would take action. Only he had discovered, to his annoyance, he couldn't throw her into a cell since the rules of the Tournament actually permitted the barbaric methods of the Potter brat. In any case, the First Task had actually won a phenomenal audience worldwide, and now many were betting on Charlotte Potter being the winner of this round. Assuming she lived, of course. Yes, while Fudge was frustrated to get rid of the Girl Who Lived, his opportunistic mind had immediately seen the possibilities. So, for now, the girl would be the poster girl for the Tournament, and if she stepped out then he would see her thrown into Azkaban. So much for the Potter family.

XXX

Even though she knew what the Second Task of the Tournament was - again, thanks to kidnapping Ludo Bagman and using truth serum on him to get the gist of what was going on - Charlotte had to admit she was impressed with what the organisers had cooked up for the Second Task.

Granted, they had needed to solve a few issues - namely her actions in the last task, although Charlotte wasn't bothered about that in the least - the basics of the Task hadn't been changed at the last minute. The Tournament had been in the organisational stage for a long time, even longer than Charlotte had been in the Magical World, and the Tasks had been agreed about a long time ago. All the organisers had to do was shift them a little bit, that was it.

She walked with the other three Champions towards the Quidditch Pitch following the judges and organisers of the Tournament - Charlotte had to smile, remembering all of the matches she had taken part in; granted, her enjoyment of Quidditch was limited even if it provided her with a marvellous adrenaline rush, but there were a few matches were nasty for her - taking note even through her sunglasses the audience in the stands. At the same time, she noticed all of the mirrors which hovered around the stadium, transmitting the Tournament across the whole world.

If she and the Champions were dressed in different robes, carried broomsticks, she would feel this was a Quidditch Match.

The Champions came to a halt at a platform with the judges standing on it, waiting for their fellows to join them while the Champions waited for details about the Task.

Albus Dumbledore stepped forward in sweeping robes of deep lemon yellow, pressing his wand to his throat. "Welcome to the Second Task of the Tri-wizard Tournament," Dumbledore's voice, magnified by his wand echoed throughout the stadium and the whole world.

XXX

"It's started," the man looked over his shoulder and yelled for his wife.

She came running into the room, glaring at the image of Dumbledore as his aged, wrinkled face filled the mirror. "How much have I missed?"

"Nothing so far. It's just begun."

"_Today's task is all about teamwork. Instead of all of you working against one another, all of you will be working with each other for the Second Task," _Dumbledore's voice boomed over the mirror. "_You will be rescuing people important to yourselves."_

The woman hissed in outrage, realising what this whole thing was about while she listened to the cries of outrage from the Champions. "The bastard! Rescue from what? "

Her husband agreed with her. "People important to the Champions…this stupid game never changes, not once. I only hope there are no children involved in this one."

XXX

Charlotte winced as she listened to the cries of outrage from the other Champions, and she sighed internally as she watched the idiots running this messy shebang glaring at Dumbledore, who appeared oblivious to the anger and frustration that was levelled against him. She couldn't help but wonder if the old fool had deliberately said that because he wanted to motivate the Champions, or if he was so obtuse and out of it he didn't know or understand what the effects of his speeches had on people. She was willing to bet it was the former.

She wasn't surprised to hear about the details of the Task, especially thanks to dear old Ludo - only this time, she and Dobby had gleaned some insights into the next Task - but as before, she had no idea whom she was meant to be saving. She had nobody in the world. Her family were dead. If the Dursleys were still alive, she wouldn't even touch them with a barge pole. Luckily for Dumbledore and the judges, Nightstar was safe, although Charlotte had little doubt in her head if she and her beloved cat were still living in this school, the old bastard wouldn't hesitate to use her.

Dumbledore waited for the cries to die down before he bellowed. "SILENCE!"

Charlotte winced and stepped back at the bellow, but the bellowed command from Dumbledore had done its job, and the cries from Champions and audience alike died down. For a moment the old wizard gazed imperiously around the stands before looking down at the Champions.

"All of you will be taking a Portkey to an area that has been specially prepared for this task. When you arrive, you will be confronted by a true challenge for your magical mastery. But you must work together, and to ensure you do, you will be given…THESE!"

Dumbledore flicked his wand, and Charlotte winced again, only this time it was caused by a sudden weight on her wrist. She lifted her arm and she saw a simple platinum silver bracelet marked with runes on them. She knew enough about runes to know these were special. She looked around, and she saw all the others were staring at similar-looking bracelets on their own wrists with varying degrees of emotions. Cedric was confused, Krum was frowning, and Fleur was gazing down at hers with rage. Charlotte knew how she felt; she guessed these runes would force them all to work together, and she had no idea what would happen to them if they didn't.

"These bracelets have been charmed and fixed to ensure you work together," Dumbledore said after a pause to allow the group to become accustomed to their new jewellery. "I should warn all of you," he went on, looking imploringly at all of them even if he lingered a little longer when he stared at Charlotte, "if you try to act alone, or try to harm anyone of your competitors, then you will quickly regret it."

Charlotte sighed internally. She knew from long experience, and she shared a look with Cedric here, when Dumbledore was cryptic then they would be seeing what he meant by regretting it.

Dumbledore's face lit up with a smile, his previous solemn and intense mood fading. "Now you may begin! Good luck!"

Charlotte and the other Champions waited until Percy Weasley, ushered over by his master, Barty Crouch, went over and held out the Portkey. It was a large glass jug with more than one handle. Each Champion took one of the handles, and Charlotte closed her eyes instantly as she felt the familiar sensation of a hook through the bellybutton, and she was yanked into the magical vortex….

XXX

The journey seemed to last for an eternity before they were deposited on the ground. Charlotte winced as collapsed to the ground. She was surprised; she had been practicing with the Portkeys, learning of the best way to end up on her feet since it offended her dignity as a cat burglar and cat animagus that she could not land on her feet. And yet she had ended up with the scent of grass in her face, and she opened her eyes after pushing aside the dizziness and the disorientation, and she saw that the other Champions were in the same boat she was.

Charlotte ignored them and looked around herself, seeing that they were in the middle of a clearing surrounded by trees. She took a deep breath and braced herself, pulling herself up slowly so she got to her feet. She looked around herself, turning around in a circle, ignoring the mirrors circling overhead. Turning in a circle, Charlotte saw nothing but trees. There was no castle, no tower….Nothing.

She closed her eye and concentrated. She sniffed the air, taking in the fresh air, the scents from the trees as well as the residual scent of grass in her nostrils. But there was nothing anomalous when she smelt the air with the aid of her animagus form although she stayed in her human form.

Her ears caught the sound of everyone groaning, and she turned around and saw Krum groaning as he got to his feet. Fleur had already climbed to her feet, and she had her wand out. Cedric was also on his feet, and he was doing what Charlotte had been doing, looking out into the forest.

Charlotte walked over to Cedric, who glanced at her for a second before looking back. "Where are they?" he asked.

Charlotte glanced at him for second before shaking her head. "I don't know," she whispered. "I didn't see anything. No castle, no tower, no building…just trees."

She flicked her wands into her hands, but she stayed next to Cedric before the other two Champions joined them. Both Fleur and Krum weren't happy with the teamwork thing, but they decided to make the best of it and see what their competitors had in mind. Charlotte suddenly stiffened, and she held up her wands. Cedric went still.

"What is it?"

"I saw _someone _move, in those woods. There was a clear bit, between some trees. I saw someone moving."

"Someone?" Krum said.

Charlotte nodded, not taking her eye off of the space. "I know I'm not mistaken. I live near some woods, I jog through them and sometimes I don't use paths; you'd be surprised how many muggles you find checking out mushrooms and toadstools. In any case, I saw the silhouette. Trust me, there was someone moving in there."

"Trust you?" Charlotte turned and faced Fleur, who repeated her with a yelp. "Why should we trust you? You attacked us in the last Task-!"

"You would have done the same thing to me," Charlotte's voice was harsh. "Don't deny it, you would have done the same to me. I didn't put my name into this mess, but I had no intention of letting anyone get the better of me. In any case, that's in the past. We need to work together, and they've forced us to in this Task. So lets just give them what they want, otherwise the runes on these things will activate. Come on, its only for one Task. Is that so difficult to do?"

"It's not for me," Cedric replied.

Krum shook his head. "I never expected when I submitted my name I would work with any of you, but I want to get through this and rescue whoever was taken."

Charlotte glanced at Fleur. If she were honest with herself, she had no clear idea right now of what it was that had offended the French witch, but truthfully she didn't really care. "Seriously, what is your problem with me, anyway?" she asked the older witch. "Was it because I insulted you during the Wand Weighing, or something else?"

Later in her life, Charlotte would look back and she would wonder if Fleur would reply, but at the time she jumped slightly when a Portkey appeared, discharging a thin white box on the ground. "What's that?" Charlotte asked.

Krum, who was closer, lifted his wand and levelled the tip at it before he opened it. Charlotte leaned in closer, seeing that inside the box was a roll of paper. Krum picked it up cautiously, but with growing confidence when he realised he hadn't been cursed, he unrolled it and showed it to the others. Charlotte peered around the taller boys arm.

It was a map, basic but it showed the critical details of the local area, particularly the clearing they were in. Charlotte frowned. There was a second dot on the map, but there was something…And then she realised the problem. They were facing the wrong way.

"Wait, everyone turn around….yeah-oh, no," Charlotte finished with a sigh.

"What's wrong?" Cedric asked.

Viktor caught on quickly. "That's the direction you thought you saw someone, yes?"

"Got it in one," Charlotte said, craning her head around so she could see the map a little bit better. "We have to enter the forest from here, and we have to follow this route to wherever we need to get to, but since I know I did see someone move in there, we're gonna need to be careful. Come on, let's get on with it."

Slowly, with their wands drawn, the Champions moved into the forest.

XXX

The moment they entered the forest, it seemed to become night time, complete with a full moon which made the Champions wonder if they were looking at a very clever enchantment of some kind. Fleur jumped in surprise at the sudden, unexpected shift in light while Charlotte groaned. She let out a string of unladylike curses at the need of people to be so theatrical. The reaction to her cursing was mixed; Cedric was shocked by her word use, but she saw him nod his head in agreement, Krum looked like he was about to laugh, and Fleur was looking at her as if she were deranged before she shook her head before she walked on, hearing the sounds of the others following as they moved off through the woods.

The mirrors were following them still as they walked around with their wands lit.

"Are you sure you saw someone moving in here, Potter?" Krum asked, gazing at the youngest champion sceptically, although since they had walked into a forest where the lights went out

"I'm sure," Charlotte replied; she had no idea what the Tournament organisers had dreamt up for this Task, but whatever it was, she knew it would not be nice. "Oh, I hope this isn't like that mess in Edgware Road…."

"Edgware Road?" Fleur repeated, looking quizzically at Charlotte.

Charlotte bit her lip. She hadn't intended to reveal anything of her past, but the eerie feeling she was getting just by being in this forest…it brought back memories, and she hadn't been able to control her mouth.

"It's a place in London. To cut a long story short, when I found myself on the streets, I stayed there for a bit. But one night I found myself stalked by someone. I never found out who it was, but I knew they were there, and I set a number of traps to distract them so I could escape," Charlotte's voice became grim as she remembered that particularly unpleasant time, not noticing Cedric looking at her in concern at the story which was another blow in his mind as far as he was concerned about the system. And Dumbledore.

When she had found herself in Edgware Road, it had been a short time after she had fled the Dursleys after she had killed them. Back then, Charlotte was just desperate as she tried to find places to live, places to find food, water, and money. But when she had arrived in some backwater part of Edgware Road, she had settled down for the night….And then she had felt…

Charlotte had never imagined the expression blood turning to ice becoming so apt, but it was true. She remembered settling down, getting ready to sleep, and then she had felt her blood turn cold, and the hairs at the back of her head suddenly stand on end.

She had steered clear of Edgware Road ever since, but what she remembered the most was the fear she had felt. A terrible, deep-rooted fear as something in the night crept towards her. Charlotte had never felt anything like that before; her fear of Vernon Dursley's wrath was nothing compared to that sinister thing she had encountered. The closest Charlotte today would liken it with was a Dementor, but she remembered the event well; Dementors were not affected by physical traps, and she had heard grunts of pain so she knew someone or something was nearby.

She closed her remaining eye, trying to hold back her emotions at the disturbing memory. She hadn't been to Edgware Road since, and she had never gone anywhere near it in years. When she had gained contacts on streets from other homeless people, runaway kids, she had formed contacts and she had even asked a few people about the weird phenomena she had encountered. No-one had heard anything. No rumours. Nothing.

Thinking about it made Charlotte come to a decision. She would visit Edgware Road in the summer, and she would find out for herself. Only this time she would find and face whatever it was, head-on. She knew dozens of exorcism curses and a few nastier spells in her repertoire. She wasn't going to let whatever it was know it had spooked her.

Never.

"Why were you on the streets?" Fleur whispered.

Charlotte halted.

Cedric looked between the two witches, wondering what Charlotte was going to say next.

"Because I lived there after my muggle relatives kicked the bucket," she said in a voice hewn from the ice of Antarctica before she kept moving. Fleur watched her go open-mouthed, surprised that the girl described in the adventure books her sister and her younger cousins loved to read, had led such a different life than what most expected.

The quartet moved through the woods, hearing the sounds of the night animals as they went about their nighttime hunts. Charlotte's eyes darted all around, but she couldn't see any sign of anything odd or unusual. They were being stalked. She knew it. She knew what she had seen, but she had no idea what it was stalking her. All the time she was hit by two memories - that mess in Edgware Road, and when she had confronted Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest late at night, as part of that sick plan of Dumbledore's to use the Philosopher's Stone as bait while he had no visible contingency plan in case something went wrong.

Charlotte slammed down her occlumency on the two events; she needed all of her nerve for this, and she didn't want her jittery attitude to be broadcasted worldwide and as she and the others walked slowly through the forest, trying not to jump at every sound, she wished the fear of the dark wasn't present in the human psyche.

Viktor was checking the map, and he tripped on a root, but he managed to right himself before he focused on the map. "Whatever it is they want us to get to, it's not far. The map's marked us been halfway."

"Mmm."

"What is it?" Fleur asked the youngest Champion.

"What? Oh, its just…I was expecting something more. Here we are, in a forest in the middle of the day, and yet the organisers have placed an enchantment over the place to make it seem like we're wandering through in the middle of the night….I was expecting something a bit more exciting for the task," Charlotte commented.

The group walked through the woods slowly, shining their lit wands everywhere as they followed the trail. Charlotte suddenly stopped and held the wand in her left hand out.

"Look!" she pointed the tip of her wand out to let the others see what she had just noticed. The other Champions followed the light of Charlotte's wand, and they saw the trees and bramble ahead covered with layers of silvery-white strands.

"Acromantulas," Charlotte whispered.

"How do you know?" Cedric asked curiously, and with a lot of concern while Fleur and Viktor looked at each other in worry.

In the past Charlotte wouldn't have answered the question since it would have gotten her into trouble, but since she had left Hogwarts the rules no longer applied. "I went into the Forbidden forest a couple of years ago, and I found an acromantula nest in there."

"What? And no-one's done anything about them?" Krum yelped before he got control over himself.

"No, apparently not."

Charlotte knew what the problem was. Acromantulas were giant spiders with human-like intelligence and reasoning. Their bodies were strong and highly resilient, able to withstand many kinds of spells. People who met an acromantula should not be fooled by their large sizes; they were just like conventional and ordinary house spiders. They were fast and dangerous, and their fangs were capable of biting through a plate of armour. She had researched the species after her encounter with Aragog in case she ever had the misfortune of encountering them again. She had a number of vicious curses that were capable of splitting one in half.

Their size and their natural speed and strength and their venom were bad enough, but add in their human-like intelligence and you found yourself dealing with a creature that was capable of trapping and outthinking you.

"Viktor, how much further do we have to go?" Charlotte asked.

"We have to keep walking through," the Bulgarian wizard replied.

Charlotte sighed. "Do you ever ask yourselves if we're going to catch a break?" she asked before she shook her head. "Come on, let's get it over with."

"Isn't that dangerous?" Fleur asked, following on like the others.

"Yes. But if we want to get out of this, we've got no choice," Charlotte said grimly, mentally choosing the nastiest of the curses she had in her arsenal for when they encountered the acromantulas.

The Champions walked on, trying valiantly to keep their nerve while they looked through the webs, noticing how they became thicker and thicker. It was Viktor Krum who tripped on a strand of webbing. Suddenly they heard the sound of clinking in the air, and they stopped and held their wands out while they mentally sorted through their impressive collection of spells.

The clicking in the air seemed to go forever before it ceased. The only sound all of the Champions could hear was the sound of their harsh breathing as their nerves got the better of them.

A large mass slammed into Viktor, sending the Bulgarian wizard to the ground. Charlotte turned around and held her wand light upwards. What she saw made her one remaining eye widen. Viktor was lying on his back with an acromantula, a small one by the look of it, on top of him and trying to bite him. Viktor was wriggling valiantly underneath the giant spider, but his wand had been thrown clear away. Charlotte's wands shot up and she took careful aim, and silently she cast two of the most powerful blasting curses she knew. The Bulgarian suddenly found himself covered with the smoking entrails of the acromantula, but he was alive. He got to his feet carefully, looking around as if he could scarcely believe he had survived before he looked at the remains of the acromantula; the curses had split the spider in half, and the other half of it had been popped like a gory balloon. Then his gaze focused on Charlotte, and he bowed his head in thanks when he realised what she had done.

The Bulgarian wizard had barely picked up his wand before they heard the sound of clicking before out of the darkness what looked like dozens of acromantulas came out of the undergrowth.

The Champions lifted their wands, readying themselves….


	17. Chapter 17 Into the Nest

I don't own anything, but I do own this story.

Enjoy.

* * *

The Hell of Fourth Year.

Charlotte lifted her one eye and scanned the surrounding trees, remembering from back in Second Year when she and Weasley had ventured into the forest - oh, she wished she had found a completely different way to discover the truth of Hagrid's innocence instead of visiting Aragog and his hungry children; she wasn't afraid of spiders, indeed they had been her friends in the Cupboard, but there was just something about the relentless way they had come at her and Weasley on that night where they'd learnt from a different account about what had happened when the Chamber of Secrets had been opened, but at the time she hadn't had the experience to find answers any other way since her methods of investigation were rather basic, and involved visiting and asking people the relevant questions - acromantulas had a habit of descending to the ground from high heights, so she wasn't surprised when she saw the spiders were indeed using that tactic here.

"Guys, use the most powerful fire spell you use and spread it around you!" she said as loudly as she could to the other Champions while she kept her voice as low as it could go to not alert the spiders, glancing over her shoulder although she valiantly did her best to keep the acromantulas in sight at all times.

The other Champions looked at her for a second before they shot the most powerful fire spells while she turned back and shot fire vortexes at the acromantulas that were descending. The combined fire spells had taken the acromantulas by surprise, and many of them screamed in agony as their bodies caught fire, but the intense light and heat of the flames made it virtually impossible for Charlotte to see just how many of them had been killed by the intense flames.

Once the initial blast of the flames died down, revealing the smouldering mess of burning trees and half incinerated bushes, Charlotte looked out into the forest, and she quickly saw the gleaming eyes of the acromantulas that had either managed to survive or had just kept back when they had picked up on the danger, which appeared almost like droplets of black ink against the burning forest. The huge spiders were drawing themselves back from the flames, but Charlotte's eyes widened when she saw the army of acromantulas coming out of the forest.

"You have to admire some magical creatures; you can burn them, impale them through the heads, curse them, and some of them will still come back for more!" she commented to the other Champions.

"They've surrounded us," Cedric called. "I can see them everywhere!"

Fleur was looking around herself with terror, already picturing herself as a dinner for a giant spider. "If we could just force our way through-!"

"We can't. They've surrounded us on all sides," Charlotte interrupted the French witch before she turned to their Durmstrang competitor. "Viktor, do you remember the route on the map?"

"This isn't the time, Potter!" Krum was throwing some particularly darker piercing curses at the acromantulas swarming towards them. Some of the curses didn't hit the acromantulas, who were agile and fast on their feet enough to avoid the curses, but some of the other acromantulas weren't so lucky, and Charlotte could hear some of their high pitched shrieks.

"I meant how much further would we need to go to reach it if we managed to get through the acromantulas. Think, for fuck's sake!"

Viktor paused in his spell casting when the demand from the younger Champion reached his attention, and he needed a moment to think through the adrenaline rushing through his system. "I'd say it would take…five minutes. I can't be sure."

"We'd never make it," Fleur pointed out as she raised her wand, concentrating on the acromantulas she could see already before she pointed her wand and silently cast a blasting curse. It hit one of the acromantulas and the force the spell caused the spider's head to explode. Its body dropped to the ground instantly, but while it surprised the others it did not last forever; they were still coming, closer and closer towards the four Champions. "Even if we can get through the gap, they'll just come after us."

"That means we'll have to stop them here," Charlotte finished the train of thought, looking out at the forest, and she jumped just in time as one particularly large acromantula leapt out. Charlotte was slightly taken by surprise, but it was a testament to her training and animagus form she was able to survive.

"Hello," she said to the spider, "haven't we met before?"

She flicked her wand and the acromantula stiffened when a red glow surrounded it and it seemed to vanish. Cedric and the rest of the Champions saw the glow, and they had turned just in time to see the acromantula seemingly disappear.

"Where did it go?" Cedric asked her.

"Look down at the ground."

Cedric and the others did, but only after they had managed to push the acromantulas they were facing back. Charlotte lifted her wand and she levitated something off of the ground. It was a spider the size of a clementine, but it had been twisted and crushed.

"What was that spell?"

"Tissue Compression Elimination. Something of my own creation," Charlotte said shortly, her grim tone telling Cedric she hadn't planned on revealing the spell in the first place. But she didn't have time to go any further, because two more acromantulas jumped out. Cedric and the other Champions watched in shock as Charlotte lifted her wand. The acromantulas shrieked in agony as their bodies were bathed in blue-white light which flashed into the negative before they collapsed and rolled over in their death throes.

Charlotte's wands roared as she used the same spell, illuminating trees and bushes as they flashed with a negative light, stoking the flames even more while setting other trees and bushes which had somehow managed to escape the combined fire spells earlier, but now they were unlucky as the spell Charlotte was using was more refined and powerful. And since the spellfire expanded through the air, the acromantulas had a hard time avoiding the blasts. The air became thick with the shrieks of acromantulas as they were hit by the spell.

"Another spell of your own invention, Charlotte?" Cedric asked wryly as he stuck to using spells in his own repertoire. He was curious about the spells, and he wondered just how effective they were. At the same time, he wondered just how many more spells she had in her own repertoire, but he didn't ask. This was not the time to ask questions.

"How did you guess?"

"I don't suppose you can teach us those spells?" Fleur asked, gritting her teeth as a particularly large acromantula came out of the undergrowth. She wondered when the girl had come up with those spells, but she could see the effectiveness behind the second one although the first one she wasn't sure about.

"Sorry, not right now. In any case, your wands would need to be specially adapted to cast the spells, and you'd also need to know how to control them," Charlotte shrunk two more acromantulas down to the size of oranges before she blasted a tree from its base and then magically levitated it upwards. She then banished the uprooted tree out into the forest before she used a transfiguration spell which transformed the tree before it exploded. Fleur cried in shock, waving her wand and brought up a shield to protect herself.

"What was that?" she demanded over the din of more pained shrieks from the acromantulas.

Charlotte paused while she fired a chain of piercing curses at several acromantulas who'd appeared in her line of sight. "I transfigured that tree from wood into glass before exploding it in the centre to concentrate the blast. Some of the glass will be large chunks the size of shovels, while smaller pieces will be no bigger than coins."

Fleur looked at the youngest Champion in surprise and more than a little fear. "You really don't do things by half, do you?"

"No," Charlotte's wand blasted another acromantula to the ground as its body flashed in the negative before it lay on the ground, dead. "I learnt the hard way we live in a harsh, unkind world; forget all the crap you were taught by your parents, it doesn't prevent you from hearing about murders, rapes, tortures, thefts. I've felt it first hand, Fleur. I always research spells to protect myself, and those I love and care for."

Charlotte turned around to concentrate on the fight, and just in time because it seemed like the forest was churning out more and more of the acromantulas. The forest was literally pulsating with them as they came towards the Tri-wizard Champions.

"Such power," one of the slightly older and larger acromantulas' spoke in an alluring tone that made Charlotte certain this particular giant spider was a female. "Such strength of will….you will make wonderful food-!" the acromantula was saying before it let out a terrible shriek as it's body flashed with negative light only this time it was more intense, and the stench of something flesh and blood reached the nostrils of the Champions.

"I am not food," Charlotte's voice was offended before she pointed her wands out and conjured a firestorm spell around herself and the Champions, mentally controlling the flames with the help of her skill in the mind arts while she used her occlumency to fend off any distracting thoughts. When she had learnt of this spell, she had quickly mastered it when she had discovered the basics. She had always thought that one day she could find herself either trapped into a house, or locked up, but anyway she had mastered the spell.

When she had met the ghosts of the Founder's, Charlotte had learnt it was possible to use the mind arts to control the flames using the power of the mind since the flames were a product of her own magic.

Charlotte closed her eye and concentrated.

The Champions and the audience worldwide watched in shock as the walls of pure burning flame moved backwards, incinerating trees and bushes, and acromantulas who shrieked in surprise and terror as they tried to escape, but the flames shot outwards engulfing the forest and the acromantulas before they died down. Charlotte coughed and spluttered when the flames died down, collapsing to the ground and shaking from the use of so much of her magic, waving a hanky in front of herself as the hot ash drifted into her nose.

"That was careless, Charlotte!" Cedric said angrily, although his hands shook out of the concern he felt for her as he knelt next to her while Fleur followed, slightly more hesitantly. "Using so much of your magic like that-."

"I know," Charlotte gasped, keeping her one remaining eye closed underneath her sunglasses. "I hadn't expected or intended I would use up so much of my magic so quickly."

"You should rest," Cedric said in concern, his anger abating although he was still annoyed. "We can stay here a minute if you need to-."

Charlotte waved a hand to kill the idea quickly. "I'll be alright," she said, pausing for a second while she concentrated and slowly rose to her feet shakily. She staggered for a moment when she reached her full height, but she regained her balance through sheer force of will. "In any case, I think we should keep moving."

"Surely we've dealt with the acromantulas?"

"Maybe," Charlotte whispered while she tried to keep herself from collapsing to the ground again. "But there could still be others, and don't forget; just prior to coming into the forest, I saw someone's silhouette. I don't want to meet them."

Viktor Krum came over to them. "I can't see any more of the spiders," he told them. "But Potter is right; we should keep moving to save the hostages."

The Champions moved off further through the forest while Cedric stayed as close to Charlotte as he could. Fleur did the same, while Viktor just remained close by. As they walked, the Champions had to admit they were impressed with just how much of the place Charlotte had incinerated with her firestorm spells. It was slow going considering Charlotte had lost a good portion of her magical strength in conjuring and maintaining the firestorm, never mind projecting it outwards, but they hadn't expected or imagined the fire spell to be projected so far out.

The Champions weren't the only ones amazed, either. Around the world, witches and wizards who had studied and wielded magic for decades, some of them even longer than Albus Dumbledore and Tom Riddle, were shocked that a witch of Charlotte's age was capable of magical control of that magnitude. While many of them were understandably concerned about what the girl would turn into as she reached her magical maturity, they were willing to give her the benefit of the doubt; many of them were old enough and wise enough to know that not every powerful witch or wizard who appeared could turn dangerous, but they were aware of many other witches and wizards who wouldn't have their wisdom since they had seen it so many times before, would be wary and they would judge Charlotte Potter as a dangerous dark witch just by witnessing that display alone, although her spells proved she was capable of much more.

Finally, they arrived in a clearing that had avoided the firestorm. When they stepped out, they found themselves blinking when the sun seemed to come out. In the centre of the clearing was a table made out of stone, roughly hewn, and it came up to their waists. On top of it was a goblet.

Viktor walked ahead and he picked it up, noticing something else on the table the others hadn't noticed yet. He picked it up, showing another piece of parchment.

"'Congratulations,'" he read aloud, a tone of frustration creeping into his voice. "' You have finished the first level of the Second Task. By working together, you have proven your mental maturity and blah-blah-blah. The goblet on the table is a portkey which will take all of you to the next level as soon as all of you touch it."

Charlotte sat on the table and shook her head, angry with herself for her weakness. "Can we wait for a bit?" she asked.

"But the hostages-!"

"Have been waiting for Merlin knows how long," Charlotte pointed out. "All we need to do is wait for a bit. In the meantime, we can all have a chat."

The other Champions were surprised. "A chat?" Fleur repeated incredulously. "My little sister can be hurt for all I know, and you just want to chat? There's something seriously wrong with you-!"

"Well excuse me," Charlotte's voice, although still weakened by the use of so much of her magic, was still harsh enough to get through to Fleur. "Excuse me for not having a sister so I don't know how it feels. But bear something in mind…knowing one of the organisers/judges like I do, we can expect a lot more to get through before we even reach that stage."

"What makes you so sure we will have other levels?" Krum asked.

Charlotte sent him a withering look. "Well, the note under the goblet for one thing. I'm not saying there could be more, but you should be prepared for it. In any case, Dumbledore would want all of us to be challenged in some manner, right? And there is only one way I know how to do it, and that's to provide the Champions, aka us, with more than two levels."

Fleur was looking at Charlotte suspiciously. "You're very paranoid about Dumbledore, aren't you?" she asked.

"Years of experience," Charlotte said grimly as she recalled all the years she had been at Hogwarts - that mess with the Philosopher's Stone, his inactions during the mess with the Chamber of Secrets, not saying anything about Sirius before and after the proof had arrived that her waste of space deadbeat bastard of a godfather was in fact innocent and had spent a decade locked in a dank, filthy prison in Azkaban for nothing, and even years before that, and she recalled all those dark years she had been at Privet Drive before her escape.

Something Fleur had said earlier entered Charlotte's mind. "What makes you think they've got your sister?" she asked mildly, hoping her soothing tone would convince the older witch not to fly off the handle.

When the subject came up it was obvious Fleur was nervous and had only been lashing out earlier. "I went to check on her earlier, but I couldn't find her, and Madame Maxime refused to answer my questions about where she had gone. I'd assumed my parents had taken her but I would have been told, and when Dumbledore mentioned hostages-."

"You realised what had happened," Cedric finished, looking sympathetically at his fellow Champion.

Fleur smiled at Cedric, but her eyes were still haunted by the thought of what had happened to her sister. "Who do you think they took?" she asked.

Cedric sighed. "I don't know," he replied, looking away while he tried to run through his head the possible guesses before he clearly gave up. "But I am worried."

"We all are," Viktor said pointedly, folding his arms and scowling although they could see by his posture he was angry and worried himself. He turned to Charlotte, who was looking at them all behind her sunglasses. "Who do you think they took for you, Potter?"

Charlotte looked away with a humourless chuckle that was more of a snort. "I don't know," she answered. "My entire family, barring one or two distant relatives I found out about last year, is dead, murdered by that psychotic creep who's the king of his own little world. And that includes any muggle relations of my mother. I think its someone I know; it would make sense given how much of a hard-on for forgiveness Dumbledore has, so one of them is the obvious candidate, although if its Ron Weasley, I will just turn away and leave him."

"The boy who almost wrecked the Yule Ball?" Fleur folded her own arms. "Why did he do that, exactly? I mean, I overheard what you said during the ball, but I didn't get the full story.."

"Dumbledore spun him some ridiculous lie Ron and I were going to become husband and wife," Charlotte shook her head. "I sometimes think the man's brain is off to Mars with the rubbish muggle sweets he eats. Ron Weasley has never been my favourite person. I first met him on the express in my first year; he came into the compartment I was sitting in, and he spun a terrible lie about everywhere else being full. I didn't believe him, but I let him sit down anyway. Anyway, he said to me there was no dark witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. I didn't believe him there. It didn't sound logical, so many cruel people going through just the one house. It made no sense to me since everyone who goes down that slippery slope would go through Slytherin; they might be smart, they might be brash, or they might be hardworking. All of those are traits of the other three Hogwarts Houses. Coincidentally, I had heard that stupid belief before, from Hagrid, the Hogwarts groundskeeper. He was the one who gave me my letter instead of a teacher," Charlotte explained, "but over the course of that one year, Ronald's habits disgusted me, and he hated my cat with a passion even though Nightstar was smart enough not to go too close to the bastard.

"But over the years….I dunno," Charlotte shook her head while she tried to choose the right words to describe Weasley without letting on she had known for a long time he had been Dumbledore's spy. "It was second year that I saw a prelude of things to come."

"What do you mean?"

Charlotte opened her mouth, but Cedric got there first. "She means when the basilisk began attacking the rest of the school, right Charlotte?"

"Yep. I was one of the first people to discover Filch's cat who'd been petrified by the basilisk, her tail hanging from a torch sconce. To cut a long story short, everyone thought I'd had something to do with it, so they were suspicious, and after another few attacks everyone became convinced I was the one behind it."

"Why, what happened?"

"Gilderoy Lockhart, peacock, fraud, and con-artist extraordinaire, started a duelling club, but I was forced to pair with another self-important bastard who summoned a snake. I warded it off after the con-artist only angered it more with a spell, and I was forced to speak to it."

"You're a Parselmouth?" Fleur gasped.

"There's nothing wrong with Parseltongue; yes, there are dangerous spells, and many practitioners have used it for terrible things, but I once visited India with my family during a Quidditch tour," Viktor commented. "I saw a native witch who used the language to collect snake venom and to allow children the means to touch them with them getting hurt."

Charlotte looked at the Bulgarian wizard with surprise. "India…mm, I should go there sometime, see it for myself. Anyway, I don't use that power for what you might think. In any case, I had no idea it was considered evil. How could I? I had spent most of my time trying to discover more about magic. Yeah, I had discovered my parseltongue ability on a trip to the zoo a few years before I'd gone to Hogwarts, so I had pushed it out of my mind," Charlotte said.

"What else happened with Weasley?" Viktor, seeing that they were veering off course, decided to interrupt before they were here all day. "I mean, it's clear you don't like him-."

"I don't, but that year there was a lot of tension between us since he has a black and white view of the world like so many other people. I overheard him whispering about me, and he even stated I was a dark witch like the rest. For the next year, he acted as if nothing had happened except he had discovered his teenage hormones, and let me tell you his attempts at getting me for a date were pitiful. He kept saying things like "Lottie, you're a girl, right? So how 'bout we go out together since as the Girl Who Lived, you are quite the catch?" How pathetic can you get?" Charlotte grimaced while the other Champions winced.

Viktor shook his head. "It's amazing how someone in a different country can have clones in others," he observed. "I've had people like that in Bulgaria. Dozens of fans who only want me for my fame, nothing more."

"Something similar has happened to me as well," Fleur whispered. "I lost dozens of friends when my Veela aura came out, and my friends became jealous when boys flocked to me and not to them."

Charlotte looked sympathetically at the French Champion. She still wasn't sure just how warm the other girl was going to be, but maybe with a bit of work things between them would improve. "But you weren't interested in them, were you?"

"No," Fleur shook her head in the negative. "Some of them were very…physical, you might say; they kept trying to tug me away to have sex with me. Others…well, they would gawk stupidly at me. After a while, I portrayed myself as an Ice-Queen, for protection, but it still doesn't work half the time."

"That's more or less what I've had to do," Charlotte commented. "The number of boys who's wanted me for my fame is staggering."

Cedric looked around at everyone. "Do you think its time where we should keep moving?" he asked.

XXX

When the Portkey deposited them all in somewhere dark, Fleur took a moment to let her mind and body adjust to the new location after being thrown about like that before she took note of where they were, and she lit the tip of her wand with a silently casted lighting spell. She wasn't the only one; the others lit up their own wands as well, and the French Veela noted that Charlotte Potter had lit her wand second.

As soon as Fleur took note of the younger Champions' face, she wondered if it would be better to make peace with the girl who had apparently gone through so much - she wasn't entirely sure what to make of the whole _growing up on the streets_ thing, but after she had seen that memory of the basilisk, Fleur was willing to give Charlotte the benefit of the doubt, even if she didn't entirely trust the younger witch.

For a long moment, Fleur thought about Charlotte, and what she needed to do next with the younger witch.

Fleur reflected on her 'dislike' for the younger witch, and she knew she had seriously misjudged Charlotte. A lot of the reasons came from the stories written about her 'adventures,' it was as if Charlotte hadn't had enough out of life, and she simply found it impossible to not seek more. But also from Britain were stories of how she had done this and there were other things she had heard about Charlotte which had just made the older French witch see the girl with nothing but disgust, and she had done that which made the rumours the Girl Who Lived was no more than an attention-seeking brat.

It had all changed when she had seen for herself during the Weighing of the Wands what the truth was. Fleur had honestly thought Charlotte had been milking the 'story' her eye had been destroyed, even though she had been present at the time of Dumbledore's little speech in the Great Hall which offered proof Charlotte hadn't put her name in the Goblet of Fire. But with the ceremony, she had put the whole thing to the back of her mind. When she had seen Charlotte walk in, wearing those sunglasses, she had thought the girl was milking the whole thing, and she had had enough….only for it to blow up in her face, but seeing that empty cavity where her eye should have been…

How could anyone allow it?

Fleur had been horrified, shaken by the sight of the cavity and the damage the spell, whatever the curse was since there were dozens of spells that could have caused that level of damage, had done to the surrounding tissue around the injury, and she hadn't exactly taken Charlotte's return insult back very well, but it had left her shaken up. A part of Fleur had admitted to herself that, in hindsight, she should have said something more, maybe offer an apology, but the ceremony hadn't given her the chance, and then listening to the way Charlotte described the situation of Hogwarts….

She hadn't really had a good impression of Albus Dumbledore, but seeing their expressions as Charlotte spoke in that room, it did put things into perspective. And not in a good way.

What kind of school would allow the teachers to let the students get away with that? Surely it had occurred to Charlotte's Head of House to step in, but then Charlotte had said Professor McGonagall had the _power _to stop Dumbledore. But she hadn't.

Fleur had been tempted to try to seek Charlotte out, but when she had seen what the girl had done in the First Task, it had made Fleur think Charlotte was a homicidal maniac. But she'd had time to think when she had been on the ground injured, hopeless, before she'd even gotten started about what she was going to do, but she had been indecisive.

She had been horrified, like everyone else when that vile redheaded boy had attacked Charlotte and Cedric during the Yule Ball. She had also been disgusted that Albus Dumbledore had even put the boy up to it, and she could more or less see from Charlotte's perspective why the dark-haired witch was repulsed herself. Why would someone of Albus Dumbledore's prestige poke his nose into the affairs of his students and let it explode in such a disturbing manner? If this was normal, then Fleur was eternally grateful herself and Gabrielle was attending Beauxbatons.

"You're worried about your sister?"

Fleur lifted her head in surprise at the question, and she found herself looking into Charlotte's face, and she had to do her best not to shudder; with the way Charlotte was standing with the lit wand with the darkness of where they were in the backdrop, her sunglasses and the short hair somehow gave her a more sinister appearance. "What?"

"I said you're worried about your sister," Charlotte repeated, shifting around a bit so she was directly facing Fleur. "You've been standing there for a minute; Viktor and Cedric have gone on."

Fleur cursed her lack of attention in the task since she had no idea what was going on. "Among other things," she admitted, unsure of whether or not she should tell Charlotte about her thoughts.

"Oh?" Charlotte's tone made it clear she was only asking out of politeness, but Fleur didn't doubt the other girl didn't care either way. At that moment, Fleur decided to be honest.

"I'm sorry," Fleur said softly.

Fleur doubted she had ever seen Charlotte appear so surprised. "Sorry? For what?"

"When I judged you, referred to you as 'leetle girl,' it was because I was angry because I thought you had deliberately tricked your way into the Tournament for more fame," Fleur began, watching Charlotte's face as she spoke. "And I believed the lies about you that I'd heard, that you were talentless, that you liked getting into trouble, and you never did anything for yourself."

"I've read the stories," Charlotte held up a hand. "Why do you think I took joy in what I did to the Daily Prophet? I've known about it for a long time; someone in Hogwarts has been leaking to the press I was doing one thing or another. I didn't do anything because I had planned otherwise."

"You'd planned otherwise?" Fleur repeated, looking at the girl speculatively. "What did you have in mind?"

"Questions later," Charlotte interrupted and she looked around herself. "Right now, we have a sewer to deal with."

"A sewer?" Fleur repeated in horror before she finally noticed the disgusting stench around them. "This is a sewer?"

"Yeah, didn't you notice the smell as soon as the Portkey brought us here?" Charlotte looked at Fleur that, even without the sunglasses, made it clear the younger witch was surprised Fleur hadn't picked it up quicker. "Come on, we've got to get after the guys and find out what's down here with us."

"What makes you think there's something down here?" Fleur asked as she followed Charlotte, only just avoiding a particularly suspicious-looking seepage of water.

"Because it's part of the Task."

XXX

It didn't take long for Charlotte or Fleur to catch up with Viktor and Cedric. The two young men were standing over something on the ground, and at the first sound of the two witches approaching, they turned around; whether or not it was out of some masculine necessity, Viktor and Cedric instantly tried to hold them back so they didn't see what they had found, but they had underestimated Charlotte's agility. She slipped past them and she was kneeling down next to whatever it was.

Fleur looked past Viktor and saw with her own eyes what it was while everyone around the world watched on. Fleur screamed in fright before she clapped a hand to her mouth while she closed her eyes so she could banish the hideous images in her mind.

Lying on the ground was the half-eaten remains of something, and Fleur wasn't sure if it was a human being or an animal. Everything was half-eaten anyway, and she couldn't see any signs of it being either.

"It's a dog," Charlotte announced, sounding like she was trying very hard to keep her own vomit down while she spoke. "I can see the head."

Fleur shuddered, feeling physically sick just thinking about it.

Charlotte stood up, waving a hand across her face; clearly whatever type of dog it was had to smell awful. She looked around herself, holding up her wand so she could illuminate every detail of the sewer they were in. "And it's only a few minutes from where we arrived, so it must have been left here to let us know what to expect."

"You mean we're going to be eaten?" Cedric asked, sounding revolted.

"Yeah, that's not what worries me, though. I've been in a sewer before, I've just realised there's something missing from this scene."

"What's that?"

Charlotte turned to gaze at Viktor and she slipped off her sunglasses for a moment so he could see her solemn and worried expression. "Where are the rats? Sewers and rats go together amazingly, and there's more than enough scraps of meat on this carcass," she pointed carelessly towards the dog, "so where are they?"

As much as Fleur wished she could do otherwise, she looked down at the ground, forcing herself not to throw up at the sight of the mangled and half-eaten dog. She realised Charlotte was right, there weren't any rats, but she hadn't noticed because she had been grossed out.

Cedric cleared his throat, visibly nervous about what could be down here with them. "We'd better get a move on and find the Portkey that'll get us out of here," he said.

"Wonderful idea," Charlotte said quickly and she slid her sunglasses back on over her face, while the other Champions agreed with Cedric, and they began heading out. They hadn't gone too far when they stopped when they heard a rumbling sound.

"What's that?" Fleur asked.

"I don't know," Cedric replied while Viktor grunted, and held out his wand so he was ready for anything.

They went on their way only to come into an enormous chamber. The moment they stepped in, Charlotte staggered back a little at the stench while Cedric looked at her with concern. "What's wrong?" he asked, but before Charlotte could respond Fleur screamed. Instantly the other Champions held out their wands, and they looked with horror at what Fleur had noticed.

They had walked into a massive chamber with the ground covered with mattered, filthy rushes of hay that even in the dim lighting which looked disgusting and discoloured. But in heaps, picked clean of meat, were a number of skeletons, bones. There were so many of them that none of the Champions could clearly see, not that a few of them wanted to, where they had come from. Unfortunately, as they used their wands to investigate the chamber they were in, they spotted a skull they all knew came from a human.

Charlotte sniffed the air again, and she stepped back in alarm. "No, they couldn't have!" she hissed.

"What, what is it?"

But Charlotte wasn't listening. "Now it makes sense," she growled, sounding more like a feral wild cat more than a human being. "The lack of rats, that dog, this place, and that stench! What kind…what kind of a human being would do something like this? It's an abomination!"

Cedric had had enough. He forcibly grabbed Charlotte's shoulders and spun her around, knowing that he was playing a dangerous game since Charlotte was capable of tearing him to bits. "Charlotte, listen to me," he said as firmly but soothingly as he could. "Enough! What is happening?"

Charlotte glared dangerously at Cedric, but she calmed down and relaxed. "Can't you smell it? The stench of the sewer is overpowering, yeah, but in here it's easy to pick up. This is a rat's nest. Somewhere in this sewer is a giant rat!"

"Oh, come on, Potter," Viktor snorted derisively. "There can't be.."

But Charlotte didn't let up. She glared viciously at the Bulgarian Champion. "I'm deadly serious. Look around you, Krum. We are in its nest. It's gonna come back here, sooner or later, and I don't wanna be here when it does turn up."

"Are you scared?"

"I once saw a homeless man who'd suffered a terrible accident which crippled him being eaten by rats," Charlotte snapped, her hackles raising instantly at the derisive tone. "I didn't know him, but I knew he couldn't move. I was sharing a shelter with him and two others. We all saw it. He was lying on his side, but when we went over to offer him food, we saw little hints of movement…and then we saw the rats. They were swarming over his legs before they reached other parts of his body. He woke up and discovered he was being eaten alive. They tore little chunks of him off, eating him, opening him up. You saw that dog, Viktor! Look around this chamber! This thing has killed maybe a dozen humans! Do you want to be its next meal?"

Viktor was about to say something derisive, but he stopped when the rumbling came again. It was closer now. Almost like it was only a few feet away. Suddenly they heard something else, a high pitched angry squealing sound before they heard a ruffling sound near…it was coming from one of the entrances.

The Champions turned and looked in horror as, out of the darkness, a massive form appeared, squealing angrily as its nest was disturbed. The four Champions backed away as the rat slinked in, gaping in horror at the size of it.

They were trapped.

* * *

I couldn't resist adding the Tissue Compression Elimination thing, which I had taken from Doctor Who as the Master used the technique as his calling card, and the other spell was taken from the Daleks.


	18. Chapter 18 Over the Chessboard

I hope you are all okay with the COVID-19 virus running rampant, and that you are all keeping indoors even if isolating yourselves is stressful. I wanted to update some of my work for the new month, and in this chapter, there is a cliffhanger waiting. Although it might not be what you were expecting.

As usual, I own nothing.

Please feel free to review.

* * *

The Hell of Fourth Year.

The rat was enormous and it loomed through the wide circular opening, and it began squealing hungrily when it saw the Champions in the den. Charlotte's wand snapped upwards and the rat shrieked as its body flashed from positive to negative, and then back to positive but the rat was unharmed, but it moved backwards under the force of the blast.

Charlotte gasped.

The rat was immune to her version of the Killing Curse. The spell was designed to hit the victim with a massive blast of magic, searing through the nerves before dialling down the power until it literally burnt the nerves away. Why hadn't it killed the rat? Was it because the rat was so big it had somehow resisted the spell?

Unfortunately, while the blast had mildly injured the rat, it hadn't killed it. Charlotte watched as the rat's giant paws padded aimlessly around the entrance to the nest, certain that if it was human, the creature would be shaking its head or something like that. Squealing savagely in rage, the rat darted forwards, forcing the Champions back.

"Damn," Charlotte cursed, but she fired off another spell. This one was much more effective as it was a fire-vortex spell. It was noticeably much weaker than the spells she had used earlier, but it was still more than enough to push the rat back. The fire terrified the rat, and it squealed in terror.

Charlotte grinned, and she mentally cancelled the spell before she fired it again at the rat in a stream like a magical flamethrower. As much as she hated to admit it, this spell was more effective than her own custom made spell.

The rat squealed louder in surprise and terror while Charlotte stepped closer, the stream of flame spewing from her wand tip and pushing it further and further back. Charlotte stepped forwards, keeping up the work although she wished one of the other Champions - preferably all of them - helped her by using some of the most destructive spells they knew, she didn't care wish. She just didn't want to be the one who did all of the work. Oh well, she would make sure they contributed later.

Assuming they managed to get out of here.

The rat let out a savage scream of pain when a spell flashed over her shoulder and hit the rat right in the side. The spell slashed the rat's thigh, and some blood splashed out of it, making the rat shriek with pain and rage, but otherwise, the spell hadn't done any actual harm.

Roused by the use of the spell, the other Champions fired their own curses against the rat. Charlotte kept up her magical flamethrower to keep pushing the rat back, out into the sewer, and hopefully even further back so then they could escape. The rat squealed under the barrages of spells - Charlotte was impressed despite being pissed they had waited for so long before they even fired off their own curses, but she was pleased they had - but it was otherwise unharmed by the spellfire, but they could all hear the sounds of the rat's screams of pain and anger. The screams, being so close, made all four of the Champions unnerved; it was so piercingly loud it went straight through them.

But the barrage and the flames were certainly effective in pushing the rat back. Just a little bit more….Right There!

"Come on, you guys! Get out of there!" Charlotte yelled.

The Champions didn't need telling twice, and they rushed out in the brief opening while Charlotte kept the rat frightened and back. Once the last Champion had rushed out of the rat's nest, Charlotte didn't waste time, and she just took off after the Champions. The sound of the rat's angry squeals which echoed unnervingly through the darkened sewers until it felt like they were shredding her skin off of her bones, and grinding her skeleton into dust.

She looked over her shoulder, and she could see the rat rushing towards her in the dim wand light as she ran. She turned forwards and kept running after the others, drawing on her magic and her animagus form to push herself on after the others before she caught up with them.

"Have you got any ideas?" Cedric asked when he noticed her over the rat's squealing before they came to a turning, but he was also speaking to Fleur since Krum had run on ahead of them all.

Charlotte, who'd been going through her mind for the spells of her own creation and what she had picked up from the Founders and some of the illegal books she'd collected from Knockturn Alley, stopped when she saw one of the Champions about to turn left. "Don't go down there!" she shouted. "There may be other rats out there!"

Krum didn't pay her any heed, making Charlotte inwardly wonder if all Durmstrang students or wizards, in general, were immensely stupid thanks to something in the gene pool.

Realising Cedric was waiting for her to answer his question, Charlotte glanced at him and wondered what he could tell him. She had several plans in her head, but after seeing how her first plan had failed so dismally, she was worried to try them out. Still, she knew she needed to

"One of two," she admitted. "I'm going to try something."

Charlotte stopped and she lifted her wands, and she saw out of the corner of her eye the other Champions had also stopped to see what she had in mind while they listened as the rat's squeals drew closer and closer to them all. Charlotte waited until the rat had come in closer while making sure she had plenty of time to move, and she lifted her wands, taking in the slimy wet fur of the thing in front of her, the shine of its eyes as the wand light from the other Champions - she did not know why they were there - and the large yellow fangs before she aimed her wands at it.

Two spells of fiery orange light were shot out of Charlotte's wands. The rat squealed when it was hit by the double spells, but they didn't seem to have made any effect against the rat. It let out another of its trumpeting shrieks, but then it began shrieking in pain as if something was hurting it.

"What's going on?" Cedric asked, squinting in the darkness.

Charlotte exhaled. "I'm hoping that spell works," she said.

"What did you use?" Fleur asked, looking curiously down at the shorter girl with a little hint of apprehension in case this spell was not going to work.

"What in Merlin's name!" Cedric interrupted, looking at the rat and drew Fleur's attention back to the giant creature.

Smoke was starting to pour out of the rat's mouth, choking the creature in between its shrieks of pain and anger, but the pained squeals were rising in pitch, just as fire began erupting in different places on the rat's body. The rat screeched in primal terror as the flames grew more and more uncontrollable before it collapsed weakly on the ground, writhing in pain.

"We'd better get out of here!" Charlotte called to her fellow competitors, and she ran off with her wand lit after Krum. Fleur and Cedric glanced at each other, and they rushed off after her.

"What was that?" Fleur demanded while she panted with the effort while she kept running after Charlotte, who was much faster than she was herself.

Charlotte, much to Fleur's annoyance, didn't even seem out of breath. "My own answer to a blasting hex. A disintegration spell; it actually pushes the magic into the very body that wants to be destroyed, be it a wall, a block of ice, whatever barrier you find yourself trapped by. The spell then disintegrates it by unleashing and concentrating a huge amount of heat. The spell increases the heat, on and on until there is an internal fire. I tested it on a brick wall and a very large but dead tree. It worked a treat, although I never would have imagined it would be used on a giant rat."

"Just what exactly possessed you to create the spell anyway?"

"I needed a hobby," Charlotte shrugged, or tried to at least while she was running through the sewers, "Spell creation seemed like the logical step, and in any case, haven't you wanted to smash something until it was pulverised into dust?"

"Yeah, but why did you invent it in the first place?"

"What's the problem, it got that fucking rat off our backs didn't it?"

"It's not what I would have expected from a supposed hero of the Light! And you didn't answer my question."

"I don't have to answer to you, but I'll tell you anyway," Charlotte asked, "You saw my memory of how I took down that basilisk two years ago are you really that surprised I've had to come up with creative and unknown means of defending myself?"

As he ran with the two witches, Cedric wondered to himself if there was a lot more to it than Charlotte was saying, especially once you took into account what people like Dumbledore were doing to her life. He wasn't going to interfere with this argument or debate, or whatever in the name of Merlin it happened to be. He valued his neck a lot more, and in any case, he wasn't truly surprised by the revelation Charlotte had developed some impressive if dangerous-looking spells since he had a good picture of how bleak and horrible her life had been.

"You don't need to develop something so vile!"

"In case you didn't realise, that giant rat was going to catch us, and it was going to gnaw us to death, you stupid cow!" Charlotte sneered at the French Champion. "I didn't see any bright ideas from you, and you're meant to be the best in your year at Beauxbatons, right?"

Sensing an upcoming fight which they currently did not need right now, Cedric stepped in, "We've got to get to Viktor."

Charlotte and Fleur turned to glare at him for his interruption, but Charlotte nodded. "You're right, Cedric," she said, "but where the fuck has he gone-!"

She stopped when she heard the sound of yelling in a foreign language, and familiar sounds of high-pitched squealing.

Charlotte slowed to a stop. Fleur and Cedric did likewise. "More rats!" Cedric snapped, horrified since they had only just managed to escape one.

"Moron must have run into them," Charlotte commented, although she wasn't entirely surprised by this latest turn of events; while one rat would be more than enough if you looked at it from a certain point of view, you realised it would be more frightening, not to mention more challenging or in the case of the fucking audience, entertaining, to have more than one.

At that moment, a mirror glided down in front of them. The image showed a picture of Albus Dumbledore, but as she took in the image of her former Headmaster, Charlotte realised this was a recording since this version of Dumbledore was dressed in different robes to the one presiding over the Task today.

When the image started to speak, Charlotte knew she wasn't going to like what she was going to hear. Dumbledore's cryptic pseudo-wisdom was grating on the nerves at the best of times, but in this instance, she knew the man was going to say something irritating.

"You have reached the next level of the Tri-wizard Tournament. Congratulations. However, you will need to be careful of the rats. We, the organisers of the Tournament, have taken a small number of them and have grown them to enormous size in order to challenge you."

"No shit, Holmes," Charlotte snapped, making her competitors look at her in confusion. Then again, magical culture had no mention of Sherlock Holmes.

"This part of the task is to test your ingenuity and your drive. You will need both in order to find and recover the Portkey inside the sewer network you are currently in. Good luck!"

With that, the mirror message vanished and the mirror went blank, replaced with the faces of the Champions.

"The bastards!" Charlotte snapped before she shook her head and turned to the others. "Come on. I hope you won't be adverse if I use more of my vile spells, right?" she asked over her shoulder to Fleur, before she ran off in the direction of the screaming and cursing, holding her wand out and mentally commanding her wand to help track it down. While she ran through the sewers, ignoring the barely concealed mirrors which were broadcasting the entire footage of the whole fucking task, Charlotte wished she hadn't revealed too much about the spells she used. While it could be argued she hadn't had any alternative but to use spells like the Disintegration spell, her own version of the Killing Curse, her Tissue Compression Elimination curse, Charlotte honestly wished she had kept things like that all under wraps.

She didn't give a fuck one way or another how the Wizarding World at this point, but since she had wanted to keep her true self under wraps from the likes of Dumbledore, it was frustrating for her and she honestly hoped the people behind the Tournament did not interfere, or try to put her in Azkaban, although her stay would likely be short-lived, unless of course Fudge, in an act of incredible wisdom, placed magical suppression bracelets on her wrists to stop her escaping although she could imagine ways she could escape from Azkaban if she had given it some degree of thought.

She only hoped the Tournament's by-laws which allowed so much leeway still held up, but since she planned to leave the magical world at the end of the year, she hoped she never found out. Yeah, some might call her a coward for her attitude, but she did not care. Was it cowardice not to want to go to prison, or anything like that? Charlotte neither knew nor cared, but she hoped that Fudge didn't poke his nose into her life in the long term.

As she ran through the sewers, skidding to a halt when one of the rats appeared in front of her, although she fired her Tissue Compression Elimination curse at it, hoping that it did work. The rat only had enough time to squeal before it was shrunken down and crushed to the size of a doll.

She grinned in relief that one of her favourite spells worked on the rat, sighing in relief before she went back on her run. But as she ran past the crushed remains of the rat, her animagus-enhanced ears easily picking out the sounds of Fleur and Cedric, two more giant rats appeared at the far end of the sewer. As soon as they spotted her, they shrieked and began moving towards her, but it only made Charlotte's job easier.

She lifted her wands and shot out her custom incineration curse at the two rats, startling them both when they hit them and dissipated as the magic of the two separate spells sank into their bodies. The two rats charged towards her, unaware their bodies were burning from the inside out but when they did realise they were on fire and there was nothing they could do about it they both began thrashing around in a panic, rolling onto their backs and scratching the air or even each other as their bodies were incinerated.

Wrinkling her nose at the stench, especially since the smell affected her inner cat although Charlotte truly did not want to know if her cat form was hungry for barbecued rat or repulsed. She just kept moving, knowing without needing to turn her head the others were right behind her.

She turned another corner slowly, only to come face to face with another giant rat. Charlotte backed up in surprise a little, and the rat itself looked startled, but it quickly recovered. Charlotte lifted her wand and shot a Tissue Compression Elimination curse at the giant monster in the tunnel with her. The rat squealed as it was bathed in red light and was shrunken down to the side of a doll.

Charlotte ran on, idly wondering why it was only two of her custom curses were working. She wondered curiously to herself if the rat was just too big for her killing curse to have an effect, but she wouldn't know for sure unless she tried it again. She ran down the tunnel, wands ready while she kept her ears sharp for any sign of more rats - she wondered how many rats the idiots behind this fucked up Tournament had grown to such enormous proportions - when she turned a corner and found herself looking in horror at what she saw in front of her.

She had come across a massive cavernous chamber with numerous routes leading in different directions, with light coming from a number of unknown sources, but cast shadows everywhere so it was virtually impossible for anyone to really see what was lurking in them, although Charlotte could see into them, thanks to her enchanted sunglasses.

But she didn't need to. In front of her was what looked like an army of giant rats of various sizes, but enormous nonetheless. There were dozens of them, all of them shrieking and squealing savagely, pawing the ground in anticipation. But as she watched them, she noticed that a number of them were dead or wounded.

"Potter!"

Charlotte turned, seeing Krum pressed against the wall with his wand up. She quickly ran over to join him.

"What took you so long?!" Krum snapped at her, shooting off a killing curse at a rat that had taken advantage of his clear distraction of her presence. The thing dropped to the ground without a sound.

"There were others out there," she replied without preamble, shooting off a number of her incineration curses towards the rats before she turned her attention over to Viktor. "Have you found the Portkey?"

"Look in the middle of the rats."

Charlotte turned and looked, but it was virtually impossible to see where the Portkey was since there were so many rats crowding around in the space, swamping one another it was impossible to make out. And then she saw a hint of something in the centre of the chamber, or what she thought was the centre since there were just so many large moving rats, that were now just as cautious since the incineration of two of their fellows, but she thought she could see something in there.

"I got in here and I found them all over it, but nothing I did worked. There are just too many."

Charlotte said nothing for a moment while she looked around the chamber for any ideas. She discounted firing a curse at the ceiling to bring down the tonnes and tonnes of bricks, mortar, concrete, and fuck knew what else since it would likely kill her and the others as well. She had two wands, but while she was tempted to just use another firestorm spell, she remembered how drained she had been earlier.

She didn't want to do that either.

She had no idea just how many levels to this Task were left, but the more magic she used up, the more vulnerable she was; while she was smart and could think on her feet, she didn't want to put herself at risk.

And then it occurred to her.

"I've got an idea," she turned to Viktor briefly so he gave her his undivided attention before she turned back to face their bigger problems, "the only drawback is we need the others to help."

Krum grunted with annoyance. "Where are they?"

"I don't know, but I know I heard them behind me. It's likely they've run into another rat, but hopefully, they're smart enough to find a way around it."

At that moment Cedric and Fleur came in, backing up in horror when they caught sight of the rats in the chamber. Their arrival only made the enormous beasts shriek louder which echoed all around them in a terrible din while the dim lighting of the chamber only served to make the place more sinister.

"The Portkey is in the centre of the Chamber," Charlotte told them bluntly without any preamble, although she took note of the shaken look in Fleur's expression and the bloodstains on Cedric's clothes. She'd guessed they'd encountered more rats since they had been held back from getting here, and she guessed it had been one hell of a nasty fight. "Trouble is…well, I don't think I need to say."

Fleur glared at her for a moment, thinking she had detected some cheekiness in her explanation. "Have you tried summoning it-?" she asked.

"First thing I tried when I had the chance," Krum interrupted sharply while Charlotte inwardly kicked herself for forgetting something so simple, although she guessed she could excuse it since the rats had distracted her. "But it must be spell-proof; I can't summon it here. It's no use, we have to get rid of the rats."

"I have an idea," Charlotte interjected, making the older competitors look at her. "It's risky and it may not work, but it might just help us. But you'll need to trust me."

The older Champions looked at each other for a moment, and they all seemed to get the idea there was nothing else they could do, so they decided to go for it.

"Okay, Charlotte, what did you have in mind?" Cedric asked.

"Do you remember when we first came across a rat, and I tried to kill it?" The Champions nodded. "I'm positive the reason why the spell hadn't worked before was that the rat itself was far too big for the curse to make an impact, whereas the acromantulas were easier to kill. One option is we share our power, and use the same spell, and kill all the rat to get to the portkey. We place the tips of our wands together while I think of the spell and move our wands around, while you supply the raw magical power."

Instantly the others argued with her.

"Sharing magical power is dangerous," Krum informed her.

"Are you mad? Suppose your spell isn't compatible with our wands?"

"I know-."

"Do you? Suppose it doesn't work?"

"Do you have any better suggestions?" Charlotte snapped, tired of the irritating lack of faith. Yes, she could understand their annoyance, but why was it every time she suggested a course of action to other people in the magical world, they turned on her? It never ended.

In any case, she looked at them, challenging them to show if they had any brighter ideas. It wasn't as if their lives weren't at stake, right?

No, they didn't. And she could see they didn't have any better ideas, but she understood their reasons for not wanting to do as she'd just suggested. The Champions looked at each other while they kept an eye on the rats, who were still wary of them for the time being. But they all knew the rats would soon snap out of it, and when they did the Champions would need all of their wits to stay alive.

"Look, we can try the one spell I've got in mind first," Charlotte said evenly, "and if it doesn't work, then we can try something else. But, guys, we need to work together, and we definitely need to destroy the rats, so we can get to that portkey and get out of here."

The four Champions were indecisive, but it was when the rats, sensing their prey/quarry was distracted, and seemingly no longer a threat, surged forward.

That made up their minds.

"Alright, Potter!" Krum shouted, shooting off another killing curse while Fleur and Cedric, both bulking at the sight and the use of such an illegal curse, looked more hesitant but they acted when they themselves were attacked by other rats, and while their spells were tamer by the standards of magical law, they were still lethal. "What did you have in mind?"

Charlotte grinned, and she stood up, holding up the wand in her right hand. She slipped her other wand into the same hand so the pair were joined together. She held out her hands. "Place the tips of your wands against mine," she ordered. "I will think of the spell, casting it silently, but when I move the wands in my hands against yours, move with them, okay?"

The other three Champions looked at themselves, but they did as they were told. The rats, no longer frightened by the deaths of their fellows, shrieked as they came together.

When Fleur joined in, placing her wand against the others as the rats charged towards them, squealing and shrieking savagely, Charlotte added, "Close your eyes if you need to concentrate your magic on it. Right, be ready…!"

All of the Champions felt a strange surge of power, that was admittedly similar in some ways to what they usually felt whenever they cast a spell, but this time was different.

They watched as the spell they had seen Charlotte use against the acromantulas suddenly take the savage, giant rats by storm. The spell roared in their ears while they watched its effects against the rats for the first time. The light around the rats darkened, as did their fur, in a flash of blinding, light

against their skeletons, making them shriek in agony before they crashed to the ground, thrashing in their death throes.

Charlotte moved her wands, making the others do the same, killing more and more rats, making them shriek terrible cries of pain as the magic burnt through their bodies. The Champions clenched their jaws at the horrible screams, but they didn't stop as the spell ended the rats, driving many of the surviving rats away.

Charlotte dropped her hand, opening her eye and seeing through her sunglasses the rats, frightened of what had happened to their fellows, had run off, leaving behind a number of giant corpses. But the path to the portkey was open to them. She was about to walk to the portkey when she realised the rats could return in the meantime and overwhelm them before they knew what was happening. She pointed her wands at the portkey.

"Accio, Portkey!" she intoned, hoping there weren't any spells on the portkey to prevent it from coming to them. Fortunately, the spell worked, and the portkey was summoned to them.

Charlotte grinned and she held it out to the others, but her smile faded when she caught sight of the unhappy expressions on Fleur and Cedric's faces. "What's the matter?" she asked. "Something I said?"

"Was that really necessary?"

"What do you mean?" Charlotte asked, but she knew what Fleur was saying.

Fleur gestured all around the chamber to the corpses of the rats. "Was it necessary to kill them like that?"

"I'm not happy about how we went about this, but I do think you should have found another way?" Cedric added.

Charlotte wanted to murder them. That was the one thought in her head while she had to use all of her occlumency training to stop herself from lashing out at them. She wanted to kill them in the most painful, most vicious way she knew of, and she wanted to grind what little remained of them into dust. She would hate to do such a thing to Cedric considering her feelings for him, but she was so sick and tired of the holier-than-thou attitudes so many people possessed.

She wondered why wizards and witches refused to live in the real world. Couldn't Fleur or Cedric see if they hadn't killed the rats, they would have all died and they would never have been able to get to the portkey so they could reach the hostages, and end this fucking task?

It was ludicrous, and once more she wondered if Albus Dumbledore's stupid ideology had penetrated every single corner of the world like the disease it was.

She needed to take a deep breath and use her occlumency barriers to clamp down on the homicidal thoughts running through her head.

"Those things," she paused while she gestured around her, around the corpses of the rats, "would have killed us all without a qualm. We were food to them. That's not a crime in itself. Hunger is not a crime. They were hungry animals trying to survive, but if we hadn't killed them, we would have died. There are people counting on us, or have you forgotten about them? You have a sister, right, a sister whom you think is a hostage?" she said to Fleur, instantly feeling bad for the manipulation which once more made her think she was becoming more like Dumbledore every second, although in this instance she wasn't sitting on the sidelines watching if her pawns could sink or swim. "Do you really think she'd appreciate it if her rescuer, her own sister, couldn't save her, because she cared more for her conscience?"

Fleur's entire posture changed. Feathers began sprouting from her body, and her whole face was changing into that of a bird. Charlotte stood her ground, although she mentally went through her spell repertoire for a calming spell, and she hit Fleur with the most powerful spell she knew, inwardly horrified by what she had just said.

"I'm sorry," Charlotte whispered apologetically when she saw the last feather retract into Fleur's body, the skin turning as smooth and creamy as before. "I shouldn't have said that but you three have grown up happily, you have never had to see the reality that only the strong survives or they perish. It's a harsh rule, but it's true. How about I swear I won't harm anyone or anything unless the situation calls for it, okay?"

The Champions looked at each other and then they looked back at Charlotte, and they nodded in acquiescence as she held out the portkey. They all realised she had a good point, but while they didn't like what was happening they could see her argument and her unspoken point.

They all touched the portkey and they were sent off into the magical vortex….

XXX

…and they were deposited into what seemed to be an enormous room made out of pure stone, with high fluted gothic columns. Three of the Champions had been experienced with portkey travel since they were old enough to walk and they knew the best way was to close their eyes and not look into the vortex, which was like the whirlwinds of a hurricane, but the force of this particular portkey was several times more powerful.

Charlotte groaned as she fell to the ground, closing her one remaining eye while she tried to hold down her breakfast - she'd had a fairly light one, with some fruit and water in anticipation for today, but she hadn't expected this - which threatened to spill out everywhere.

She was locked in her misery, but she still heard the others. They sounded just as sick as she did, and she felt sympathetic towards them. "I will not puke," she whispered, taking in deep breaths as she spoke, "I am not going to puke!"

With that, she rose up, keeping her eye closed as she rose slowly up and she pulled herself into a cross-legged position while she rubbed her face tiredly before she opened her eye up slowly and looked around. She quickly scanned their landing place, completely unsurprised for some reason that there was no sign of any hostage. But what worried Charlotte the most was the ornamental floor that seemed to stretch forever to the far end. She frowned when she spotted the statue of a golden wizard holding what appeared to be a large diamond.

Calmly Charlotte used her legilimency connection to her sunglasses enchantments to magnify in on the wizard's hands. The diamond was easily the size of a basketball. Charlotte thought back on what she and Dobby had learnt when they'd interrogated Bagman under truth potion. Frustratingly the foolish man had been vague about the obstacles in this particular Task, but she had heard there would be some kind of treasure hunt although Bagman had little idea of what it entailed.

Charlotte sighed and she stood up slowly, feeling nauseous. She turned and saw the others were getting up as well, all of them looking as physically sick as she did. She walked over and held out her hands to help Fleur and Cedric. Cedric took her hand without too much hesitation, but the moment of mulling made her wonder just how much of their relationship had been spoilt by her actions.

It was Fleur who was the most hesitant and reluctant to accept her help, but the French witch could feel nauseous, and she knew it would take a miracle to get her to stand on her own two feet without help right now.

"So, any idea where we might be?" Cedric asked, looking around, squinting uncertainly at the wizard statue.

"No. But I think that statue with the diamond in its hands is an essential part of this stage of the Second Task," Charlotte said.

"Why do you say that?"

"The answers are in front of you. There is nothing else here, nothing but the floor and the statue," Charlotte answered.

"Mm, she's got a point," Krum grunted before he walked forwards. "Come, there's nothing to fear here-!"

He couldn't say anymore when he felt an extraordinarily strong hand grab his shirt and throw him back. Krum instantly looked up, staring into the face of Charlotte Potter. "That is what scares me," Charlotte said.

With that, she turned around and walked to the nearest column. She held out her wand and blasted a small chunk of masonry from it, and she smashed it into little bits. Charlotte held them in her hand and she walked over to the edge of the ornamental floor. She bent down and examined the flooring….This whole place screamed a giant chessboard like the one she, Weasley, and Granger had encountered during that insane quest in their first year, but somehow this place just felt different, although it was similar. Some of the squares were white, the others were a dark red in colour.

And knowing Dumbledore as she did, well Charlotte wouldn't be surprised if this latest obstacle of the Second Task was yet another example of a man who never truly bothered to sit down and think through his plans with an objective eye.

She pushed those thoughts aside, and she dropped one of the bits of masonry on the floor, choosing one of the white squares. Nothing happened. Charlotte tried to ignore the sinking feeling she felt when she dropped another piece, watched by the three older Champions who had realised what she was doing, and why, onto one of the dark red squares.

The square flashed with red light, and it wasn't the only one.

All the other red squares began flashing, and Charlotte jumped back worriedly, wondering what it was she had just tripped up. The Champions watched quietly as figures began to appear on the red squares. They were tall figures, resembling armoured knights made from polished black stone, all of them were armed with massive axes, maces, broadswords that were larger than Krum and Cedric combined, and a few were carrying spears.

As soon as they were fully formed, they stood motionless as the voice of Albus Dumbledore echoed around them.

"I trust you are now aware of the obstacle in front of you," the sage, albeit aged voice of the old manipulative bastard which had been honed for years before any of the Champions were born said, "they are going to move as soon as my instructions are finished, so beware. At the far end of this hall, there is a statue of a wizard with a diamond clasped in the hands. That diamond is your portkey. It will take all of you to the next stage of the Task. Good luck."

The moment the message was ended, the warrior figures stood to attention, moving into combat stances. The Champions, startled, got into stances themselves, readying themselves for the fight ahead.

"Have you got any ideas?" Fleur asked Charlotte nervously. She already had a few ideas in her head, but considering how they were meant to be working together, and Charlotte had put in a huge amount of the work already, it seemed like a good idea to find out for sure.

"A few, what about yourself?" Charlotte said, not saying that her ideas were ill-thought out since there was only so much they didn't really know.

"One or two," Fleur replied while Cedric and Viktor got ready.

"Are you two done?" Krum interrupted them, looking at the two witches with something that made them both uncomfortable (Charlotte had to close down the thought in her mind which shouted Krum was one of those people who looked down on girls; this wasn't the time for a stupid case of philosophy).

"Do you have something in mind?" Fleur asked her Durmstrang competitor curiously, her own tone sharp which told Charlotte she had also detected the same thing.

"Sure," Krum lifted his wand in answer and fired off a blasting hex at the nearest figure. The curse smashed into the figure, pulverising the stonework and the figure collapsed to the ground.

Krum grinned smugly at the two witches who both noticed the molecule thin layer of contempt as he regarded them. "See, nothing to it?"

Charlotte raised a brow under her sunglasses. "Don't be so sure," she warned.

Krum scoffed. "You're such an alarmist-!" he began, but then his eyes widened in shock as the figure reformed so completely that the seams and the cracks formed by the Durmstrang Champion's curse vanished without a trace.

"I hate to say I told you so, but well, I told you so," Charlotte stepped back, ignoring the Dumstrang Champion completely while her eye scanned the cathedral-sized room, trying to think of a way of getting over to the diamond, and bringing it back without them being hacked to bits. She discounted trying to get over to the diamond from the ground; the figures were in the way, and there were too many of them, and they could reform themselves (Charlotte had to fight the part in her mind which said again and again that the figures could reform because Dumbledore wanted to remind her this was an echo of the Philosopher's Stone quest; this was different, but there were just so many similarities between that mess and this one to be a coincidence) to fight again.

But then she looked at the columns, and she looked over from the column nearest to her to the ones closest to the statue of the wizard before she looked further up, hoping to see something of use, but there wasn't a ledge, no way she could climb up and just run across. But the columns had given her an idea…

And it came just in time as the figures charged at them.

The Champions raised their wands, and they started blasting them to bits; Cedric managed to bring down three of them by shattering them at the knees and the legs, while Fleur favoured demolishing them all at once. Charlotte crushed two of them with her Tissue Compression spell before she turned to the others, and she crept back without them noticing.

It did occur to Charlotte she could have them cover her, but she decided against it but after a moment of mulling it over in her mind she realised they were covering her; they just didn't know it yet. She went over to the nearest column, placing the wand in her left hand back into her holster before she used her other wand and pressed the tip into the palm of her left hand.

It took a moment, but she felt her hand start to get hot but she wasn't worried, and she waited for the spell to take effect. Once the spell was in place, she cast the spell on her other hand, and then she cast it on her feet before she slid the wand into the breast pocket of her jacket. She turned to face the column, and she blew out a deep breath, centring herself, mentally preparing herself before she placed her hands on the stone column, aware even if she was doing her best to avoid looking at the mirror which had followed her up, waiting before she felt what could be described as a pull on her hands. Charlotte grinned before she moved her other hand up, and she began to crawl up the side of the column-like a giant spider while she used her occlumency to push aside all of her stray thoughts as she concentrated on the job in order to keep the magic of the spell strong.

But before she began climbing, she knew this was going to take a while.

Charlotte had used this spell before. She had used it quite frequently in the summer before her third year after she'd discovered it by chance, she found it was the perfect spell for getting into luxury flats in London.

It had been fun being 'Spider-Man,' or rather 'Spider-Woman' as one of her comic-loving friends claimed there had been a few feminine versions of the Marvel comic superhero, although she didn't care about heroism.

It took Charlotte five minutes to climb up to the ceiling, and when she reached it she needed to clamp down on her stomach in preparation for what she was going to do next while she placed her hands on the ceiling and began crawling over it upside down. She could hear the sounds of the fight, but she didn't dare look down; this was dangerous enough as it was, and if she lost her concentration then it would affect the spell.

Charlotte normally didn't bother using her occlumency for this type of work; most of the buildings she broke into from the ground up were only a few storeys high, but in this case, under exceptional and strange circumstances, she didn't want to place all of her faith in the spells placed in her hands by her wands only.

She didn't fancy falling to her death in this mess of a Tournament just to give people kicks.

Strangely enough, Charlotte found herself enjoying the experience of crawling along the ceiling upside down especially since she wasn't experiencing any blood rushing to her brain as she crawled, and as she approached the far end she reinforced her occlumency again so she could look down and get a bearing.

She was almost there, she only had a few feet to go before the statue was right underneath and she could climb down the columns and then she would have access to the statue. But she spotted a problem. Right in front of the statue on guard were four of the soldier figures, but luckily for her, they were facing ahead.

Charlotte grinned, and she kept moving when she felt the heat in her hands starting to cool. She quickly reinforced her barriers and pushed more of her magic into the spell in her hands. Once she felt the spell warming her hands again, Charlotte breathed out a sigh of relief, and she kept moving on.

When she reached the column after she made sure it was one that was right behind the statue, Charlotte thought back to the training she had taken upon herself to use in order to adapt herself to the brain-rushing sensations of crawling upside down on a high ceiling or down at wall headfirst. It was only a matter of practice of course but Charlotte would never forget the times she had been sick; while she wasn't afraid of heights, there was a limit to what her stomach could take.

At the same time, she remembered how she had used the grappling hook in the First Task when she had the means of using this, but at the time she had still wanted to stop Dumbledore from having any knowledge of what she could do, but then she had realised that it made little difference as the weeks had passed since she had planned on escaping anyway, so what did she have to lose if she showed some of the other spells in her repertoire?

Her plan had been reformed, so what did it matter if Dumbledore knew a little more of what she was capable of instead of being under the impression she was an average student?

Charlotte pushed those thoughts aside as she slowly scaled the column and went down head first, keeping her remaining eye on the figures she could see as she went down to see if they had any inkling she was there. They didn't move once as she went further down, though if they were human Charlotte would have guessed they were interested in the battle with the other Champions. Charlotte idly wondered if the others had worked out by now what she was doing, but truthfully she didn't care. She was on her own, working on her own and living by her wits, why should we worry about relying on a group of people? Yeah, she liked Cedric, but she would rather work by herself.

Charlotte's expression did not change as she reached the floor and she took one of her hands off of the column before she placed it on the floor and pulled herself off before using her other hand to help pull the rest of her body off of the column.

Mentally she dispelled the spell in her hands and she slowly rose to her feet and looked around the statue. She could see the flashes of spellfire, and the thrashing of the figures' weapons as they charged the Champions but she couldn't see them completely. Charlotte backed away and she used a wand to conjure up a backpack which she placed on her back, and she edged around the statue as silently as she could, watching the figures before she turned to the statue.

The statue was tall, but it would be so easy to climb up the base which was the height of a fence you'd find in a back garden. Charlotte pulled herself up the statue slowly, easily reaching the base of the wizard within easy reach of the arms but she knew she would need to go higher if she wanted to get the diamond. Fortunately, the arms of the statue were low enough to grab hold of and haul herself up, and as she worked she looked around to see if the figures nearby had noticed her yet. They hadn't, and Charlotte guessed they were spelled in such a way they would only attack from the front without thinking of looking behind.

As she hauled herself up on the arms of the statue, Charlotte swung her legs over and came into a sitting position on the arms before she looked down at the diamond.

It was easily the biggest jewel she had ever seen, even larger than the crown jewel collection she had stolen from the Tower of London earlier this year. If she had found this jewel in the muggle world, Charlotte knew the diamond would set her up for life, although she knew she would need to use her contacts to break it down so then she could sell it without the coppers being aware she had it.

She shifted a little bit, but she managed to keep herself stable enough to lean forward to grip the diamond, realising the arms were so thin despite outward appearances. She ignored that after a moment, realising there was little she could do about it now, and she would need to get closer to the diamond.

Charlotte gasped when she leaned too far forward, and she nearly lost her balance. She only just managed to keep herself stable, and she clenched her teeth in irritation. She moved forward slowly, closer to the diamond.

Once she was closer, she picked up the diamond, wincing a little bit; it was so heavy, and Charlotte sighed inwardly, wondering how she was going to get down with her balance so bad on these spindly arms without alerting the soldier-figures while she had to deal with the diamond which weighed a ton.

As she mulled over the problem, Charlotte suddenly smirked as she heard a voice in her brain which sounded like Rowena Ravenclaw say _"levitate it to the ground," _along with a voice which sounded like Slytherin, "_stop thinking like a muggle; think like a witch for a change." _

"Oh, I intend to," she said to herself, keeping in mind one of the mirrors had followed her and had broadcasted what she had just said around the world which would leave everyone mystified.

She took off her backpack and placed it gently on the arm while leaning it against the statue itself, and she pulled herself back slightly before she took out her wand and silently levitated the pack off of the statue, lowering it slowly to the ground before it clunked gently on one of the white coloured squares. With a smirk of triumph, Charlotte effortlessly jumped to the ground, her mind instantly shifting into her gymnastic training before she grabbed the bag, and after casting a weightless spell on it (she kicked herself for not doing that earlier, so she wouldn't have wasted so much time) before putting the backpack on her back before she raced for the column after making sure the diamond was secure as were the straps on her back.

When she got there, she looked over her shoulder to see if the figures nearest to the statue had noticed her, but when she was reassured they hadn't noticed her, their full attention focused entirely on the fight up ahead. She turned back to the column, pressing the tip of her wand in her palm and then casting the same climbing spell into her hand before changing her wand to the other hand and then doing the same thing before she climbed up the column.

Charlotte had a much faster journey this time around because she remembered the route before she climbed down the column before she stood up and after cancelling the climbing spell, she saw that the Champions were having a hard time smashing the warrior figures to bits, only for them to either reform or new ones to appear, so for every two warrior figures that were destroyed six more would take the place of the first ones.

_I have to hand it to Dumbledore, or whoever dreamt this challenge up; they certainly know how to prolong things, but they haven't thought it through, I have to admit; at this rate, it would be around midnight, or midday tomorrow before we're through, if I hadn't done what I had, _Charlotte thought to herself, before she stepped forwards, taking off her backpack and then pulling the diamond out.

She placed the tip of one of her wands to her throat, silently casting the sonorous charm to her throat. "GUYS!" she called, startling the Champions, who turned, only to gape in surprise when they saw what she was holding. "SHALL WE GET OUT OF HERE, OR WHAT?"

The Champions didn't need telling twice. They rushed over to the portkey but as they approached her Charlotte inwardly sighed when she caught their expressions. They weren't happy with her for going behind their backs and getting the diamond without them knowing what she was doing.

This was the trouble with the magical world; they were more than happy to do things in groups without thinking about thinking outside of the box. Charlotte snorted under her breathe; she didn't care if Dumbledore and the judges claimed they should work together or not, but her methods brought results and if these so-called Champions didn't like it, then fuck 'em. She didn't give a damn. She kept her face expressionless as they placed their hands on it before they were sucked into the magical vortex of portkey travel leaving behind the stone warrior figures who instantly stopped when they vanished into the vortex.

XXX

After everything else they had gone through in the Second Task so far; dealing with acromantulas in a dark forest, coming face to face with an infestation of giant rats in a sewer network, and lastly facing an army of stone warriors on a larger and more flexible version of the chessboard she'd dealt within her first year, Charlotte had expected almost anything when the portkey landed them somewhere new.

But what appeared to be a library with shelves of dark wood and covered with neatly packed books with doorways branching off while the lighting was dim which cast extremely deep, dark shadows everywhere was a surprise, but Charlotte clenched her wands tightly in anticipation.

"Charlotte," she heard Cedric say, and she sighed when she heard the Hufflepuff's displeased tone.

Charlotte turned, seeing all three of the older Champions staring at her darkly. "What?"

"We're supposed to be a team during this task, right?"

"That's the theory," Charlotte replied mildly, knowing what was coming.

"And yet you went off on your own," Fleur glared spitefully at her while Krum looked on with an increasingly dark expression. "What for, glory?"

"Don't flatter yourself!" Charlotte spat, lacing her words with magic to lash them. Fleur and Cedric gasped and they staggered back under the attack. "You lot were more interested in blasting those figures to bits. What good would it have done? Nothing. They reformed themselves, and new ones were forming all the time. How else were we to get the diamond? It would have taken hours and hours to get through, it would have wasted so much of our energy. I just took a different route, that's all. Why is it a problem?"

"Why didn't you tell us what you were doing?" Cedric asked, his voice more patient than the others, but there was an underlying annoyance, and Charlotte had the impression he was more annoyed she hadn't bothered to tell them what she'd been doing more than anything else. As much as she disdained the Hufflepuff flannel of fair play, she had too much respect for Cedric to antagonise him. Fleur and Krum were easy enough game in her mind. She didn't care what they thought one way or another, and in any case, if they had wanted the diamond so badly, then they should have come up with a much better plan than simply blasting those figures to bits, shouldn't they?

Charlotte sighed. "Alright. I didn't tell you because if I had told you what I was doing, then you might have drawn the figures attention to me. Besides, you lot were working so hard, if I had distracted you then you might have gotten hurt."

"How altruistic of you," Krum sneered.

Charlotte sneered back at the Bulgarian, inwardly laughing at his words. While she liked to see herself as kind-hearted and generous, she knew what she had done had been to speed thing up, and for her to exercise her independence when this task made it clear they were meant to work together. "Not at all, I just didn't want any of you to get a sword in your back. Besides, I had the skills to get to the diamond without wasting time and energy. What's the problem? We've moved on with the Task, so forget it. We now have this place to deal with."

"Well said, Charlotte Potter."

The Champions were startled by the unexpected voice. Charlotte's eye widened under her sunglasses. "No, it can't be," she said.

A tall thin young man who physically looked the same age of the three older Champions step out of the shadows, wearing the robes of a Slytherin prefect.

"Who are you?" Cedric frowned in confusion.

The young man, however, was looking straight at Charlotte. "We meet again, Charlotte Potter," he said, ignoring Cedric's question. "How wonderful to see you again after so long."

"Still the dramatic gob-shite I remember. How are you here, now? I killed you two years ago!" Charlotte hissed in disbelief.

"What?" Cedric looked down at her, stunned. "Charlotte, who is this?"

But Charlotte ignored him while she stared down the strange Slytherin prefect. "What are you doing here?"

The young man laughed a high-pitched laugh that hurt the ears of the Champions. "Why, I couldn't resist being here, to see you again, dear little Charlotte Potter."

"Okay, who are you?" Cedric demanded, walking over to try to push Charlotte behind him, sensing that these two had a history, and it was not a good one.

"Yes, Charlotte," the prefect smirked. "Tell the Hufflepuff who I am."

The Champions stiffened. They were starting to truly dislike this guy.

Charlotte took a deep breath. "He's a former Slytherin prefect, Cedric. You don't know him simply because he attended Hogwarts fifty years ago."

"Fifty? But how do you know him?"

"Oh, I know him well, as the psychotic bastard he is. "

"Oooh, language, Charlotte," the prefect mocked.

"Are you part of the Tournament?" Fleur demanded, her tone cool but sharp as her impatience at this verbal byplay went on.

The mysterious prefect's smirk faded as he stared with open disgust at Fleur. "Quiet, you filthy halfbreed."

"Ah, even now you still feel the need to be in control," Charlotte said, placing a strong but gentle hand on Fleur when she saw the surprise and outrage on her face at the insult. "But like Fleur said, why are you here?"

"Why, to be part of the Task of course. How else could I not be?" the prefect said smoothly.

"Not just a dramatic gob-shite, but a conceited dramatic gob-shite," Charlotte observed. "You never change, do you? You're no different to your older self, are you?"

"Older self?" Krum looked sharply at Charlotte in confusion before he turned his gaze to stare confusedly towards the prefect who was still unnamed. "What do you mean, older self?"

The only reply from the prefect was to laugh softly under his breath as if he were about to tell them the punchline of a joke they were the butt of. "And you would know, wouldn't you, my dear?"

"Yeah. Everyone saw you as a prodigy, and you were. You were a brilliant student from what I discovered after we met a few years ago; know thy enemy, one of the best truths the world has ever had. Too bad your facade of politeness lay a pathetic little child who wanted to lash out at the world, at everyone around him, simply because he wanted more out of life instead of trying to grow into something more."

The prefect's expression became terrifying in its rage. "You know nothing about me, and you are no better-!"

"Oh, but I do. And I not as pretentious as you are; I know my limits, I know what I am capable of. In any case, I know a great deal about you. I don't need a degree in psychology to work you out. I only needed a few conversations with you, to examine bits of your history to get the clues for my conclusion. So much has happened. Cedric, Fleur, Krum, this…thing is an abomination."

"Big words, little girl," the prefect sneered, the expression on his face startling the Champions barring Charlotte with the malevolence. "But tell them what I called myself when I began to hone my talents when I began putting my plans into effect."

Charlotte shook her head. "Oh, that was a sign then of things to come, wasn't it, of your ambition, your arrogance, your need to dominate and destroy everyone who came up against you. Guys, this thing is the very worst of the magical community, only so many know him by a totally different name. He's a poison, a cancer, a spectre who has haunted the wizarding world for decades, right in the shadow of Grindelwald himself. This is Tom Marvolo Riddle, but he calls himself Lord Voldemort."


	19. Chapter 19 Riddle

The Hell of Fourth Year.

Minerva swung around and faced her boss and long-term colleague with a glare which could probably melt iron while there were screams of panic and terror in the Quidditch stadium from Charlotte's announcement although she was positive the fear came from the name, rather than the person. She was willing to guess many of those same people panicking at the name of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named didn't believe Charlotte. Not one little bit. They'd likely heard stories about the Dark Lord's appearance and likely did not believe it.

"What is this?" Minerva spat at Albus, who wasn't affected by her anger in the least.

"It is part of the task, Minerva," Dumbledore replied calmly, looking up at the mirror with an expression she recognised immediately as triumphant. The expression was so surprising it actually made her take a step back, realising this was another one of Albus's twisted games, although this time she couldn't work out why he would have it broadcasted to the entire world. What was the point? What was going on?

The old Transfiguration Mistress had been watching with incredulity and pride as she watched her former Gryffindor fend off the acromantulas with spells Minerva had never imagined possible, and some of them were so downright vicious Minerva didn't really need to guess if Fudge would label them as dark or not. The Minister would. In Fudge's small excuse for a brain, anything he couldn't understand was either dark or impossible. There was nothing in-between, and since some of the spells were dangerous, clearly, Fudge would likely label Charlotte as dark.

Minerva doubted it would make an impact on Charlotte. She was never really seen around the castle anymore, so even if Fudge went over Amelia's head and despatched a group of Aurors to find Charlotte, it would likely not work out the way the imbecile expected.

Seeing the way Charlotte recovered the diamond without any help or knowledge from the other Champions made it obvious to Minerva that her former Gryffindor didn't care about the order for teamwork; Charlotte had already made several contributions already, so it was likely she had decided just to go it on her own for the time being.

But this….

She couldn't believe it.

She didn't want to believe it…. she could not believe nor could she even understand what, the name of _Merlin, _would even possess Dumbledore to even include a spectre of the Dark Lord.

At first Minerva wondered if Charlotte was making it up, even after everything she had been through today, but after a moment thinking about it and looking at Albus, she could see her hopes crash and burn.

Charlotte hadn't disguised her hatred for the spectre of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and there was even a look of smug satisfaction on Dumbledore's face. Minerva wondered, right then, just how far Dumbledore was going to go, given this latest blow.

"Albus, what have you done?" she hissed, demanding an answer instead of being fobbed off again, channelling her inner cat at the man she had once followed without question but was now starting to wonder if all those rumours about him losing his sanity were starting to have some wait after all.

Unfortunately, others had the same idea as she did.

"What is zis, Dumbledore?" Madame Maxime growled, glowering down at the Headmaster with her dark eyes smouldering with a mix of disbelief and rage.

Minerva looked at the Beauxbatons Headmistress, wondering if a teacher of equal rank would make Dumbledore provide a straight answer for a change instead of him either ignoring the question or giving a half-truth.

"What is going on here, Dumbledore?" Crouch demanded, looking dangerously at the Headmaster. "Is what Miss Potter saying the truth? Is that…him?"

"Yes, Barty," Dumbledore pressed his wand against his throat, making McGonagall realise her old friend and mentor had deliberately come up with this scheme. "That is Lord Voldemort when he was much younger."

Minerva didn't know what was worse. The fact Dumbledore had even done this in the first place, using the Second Task of the Tri-wizard Tournament which was already becoming convoluted with the different challenges in the Task, or the fact he was using Charlotte to further his own agenda. There was no doubt in her mind at all Dumbledore had planned for this to happen, and McGonagall knew, thanks to her many talks with Dumbledore over the years, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was still alive, and while in hindsight her participation in the mess three years ago with the Philosopher's Stone had the potential to have blown up in their faces in so many ways, she knew Dumbledore had dedicated his life into ending the Dark Lord.

But now she was questioning his methods.

XXX

Dumbledore had to breathe a mental sigh of relief given the sonorous charm he had cast over the whole group of judges consisting of himself and the two Headteachers of two other parts of the Tri-Wizard event, otherwise, his image of an otherwise calm and wise wizard would be ruined. It was a slightly petty and pathetic reason, but Dumbledore needed to keep some of his thoughts to himself and unknowingly, Fudge had provided it.

Dumbledore was surprised Fudge had come to the Second Task, but he hoped he didn't cause any real problems for a certain Fourth Champion. He didn't have the time to look into Fudge's mind to find out what the Minister was doing, but he was grateful it was only Fudge who had spoken and not Umbridge.

He had wanted this to happen for some time, ever since he had heard from Severus how much clearer the Dark Mark was becoming, and he realised Voldemort was on the rise again. For too long, Dumbledore had been aware of the fact Voldemort was still alive out there, not dead like so many people like Fudge believed. His return was inevitable.

A part of Dumbledore wondered if his encounter with Charlotte was a reason behind the return, or if he had simply become tired of being a disembodied wraith, which was a testament of just how far gone Voldemort had gone about with the Horcruxes. But whatever the reason, Dumbledore had decided they needed allies. He had quickly worked out no-body would truly believe him if he outright admitted Voldemort was alive.

What would be the point?

Everyone believed he was dead.

Dumbledore knew including this spectre of Tom Riddle was a risk, but it was one he needed to risk. He would need all the allies he could get, and while many would still be attracted to Voldemort, either out of fear or because they knew he could give them an excuse to do what they really wanted, they would know more about him, so theoretically Albus would have more people to fuel the ranks of the Order.

Albus closed his eyes and he reopened them quickly while he watched the mirror. He could see the disgust written plainly on Charlotte's face, and he knew while the girl no longer trusted him anymore, she would make this a lot easier.

She would know what he was trying to do, of course, but that could not be helped. There was no way out of that challenge until Riddle was beaten.

XXX

"This is You-Know-Who?" Cedric repeated, glancing between the other teenager who appeared to be his own physical age and Charlotte, completely unsure of how he should react to this. "But how?"

"This cannot be him!" Krum argued.

Riddle smiled and he took out a wand, ignoring Charlotte who stiffened, and he used the wand like a stylus. With it, he wrote in the air in fiery writing

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE.

Riddle swished his wand, and the letters rearranged themselves. Now they read;

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT.

"This isn't the Voldemort I know; he started out like this, and then he changed," Charlotte said, puzzled about why this version of Voldemort was so open with revealing the truth about himself when he had never gone to the effort in the past.

"But my father described him," Fleur said, looking at Charlotte with a desperate scepticism the younger witch was irritated by, even with the proof in front of her, but she pushed it aside, guessing Fleur was only asking because she was trying hard to convince herself and indeed, she sounded desperate. "This guy doesn't look anything like him-."

"He used rituals and other forms of magic to change his appearance," Charlotte replied. "I don't understand why, but when he began his campaign of genocide, he appeared to be the bastard son of a human and a snake."

Riddle's smug expression of triumph which had been there since he had revealed the name he had oh so cleverly created for himself vanished. "I am pure-!"

"Then why didn't you just go for your ordinary name, Riddle?" Charlotte asked, hoping the egomaniac here had the big mouth she remembered from her last encounter with this particular version of Voldemort and took the bait.

She was torn between her desire to just get this mess over and done with and at the same time deciding to throw Dumbledore a bone with this one. She had a good idea about his motivations behind this. Ever since the Dark Mark was seen over the aftermath of the Quidditch World Cup, she had wondered if Voldemort really was making a comeback even if the Death Eaters were said to have run away from the Dark Mark.

But if she were honest with herself, Charlotte could happily say she did not really care if she played one of Dumbledore's games in this case, but it would be a punch in the nose from her. Not only would tidbits of Voldemort's history be revealed, but his followers would be seeing it as well.

Dumbledore might want people to get along and play his games, but she wanted the hard facts.

Riddle's expression turned dangerously insane. "What? Use the name of my filthy muggle father which my weakling mother gave me? The stupid bitch; she used a love potion on a muggle, and when she stopped, she thought he would still love her. How pathetic is that? And fools like Dumbledore wonder why I detest love? Love is a weakness, but then again, you don't believe that do you, Potter?"

Charlotte shrugged dismissively although she was confused about what would make any version of Voldemort go into so much detail about their collective past after he just said that crap about being pure, and she wondered if Dumbledore had purposefully made this version a bit over the top. "I've never experienced love, so I can't answer. But that doesn't explain why you're here?"

"Why, I am here to challenge you, of course, my dear Charlotte," Riddle smiled smoothly, but the look of hunger in his eyes made her skin crawl, "you have become very powerful now, haven't you, my dear. Powerful…"

Charlotte made a disgusted face. "Eww," she remarked. "Are you propositioning me? Sorry, but I'd rather not; I've got better taste. I don't date psychopaths."

"If you join me-!"

"I'd get nothing!" Charlotte finished with a derisive snort. "All of your promises are empty; you don't give a damn about your followers. I worked that out within thirty seconds of hearing you speak two years ago."

"Hold on, how did you meet him two years ago?" Cedric asked in surprise. "How?"

"Through a stupid girl who didn't use her common sense, Riddle reopened the Chamber of Secrets two years ago to finish the job he started fifty years ago."

"Fifty years ago, what happened then?" Fleur asked.

"There were a number of attacks carried out on muggle-born students," Charlotte explained solemnly as she recalled what she had discovered when she had launched an investigation into the original opening of the Chamber, "finally, a student died. Her ghost is still in Hogwarts. You'd know her as Myrtle, _Moaning_ Myrtle. She was bullied heavily by many of the Gryffindors, and if you mention the name Dumbledore to her, well you'd better be prepared to cast a silencing charm for the miracle of silence. This thing was the reason why she now haunts the bathroom."

"Moaning Myrtle was his first victim?" Cedric asked in shock, looking at Riddle in horror.

"Yeah, but don't ask me how he found the entrance to the Chamber. All I know is he unleashed the basilisk inside on the muggleborns, but he didn't look to the long-term consequences of the decision," Charlotte spat the last few words of the sentence. "Myrtle was crying in her bathroom when she opened the door and looked the basilisk straight in the eye."

"Consequences? What do you mean?" Krum asked, looking down at the smaller girl, looking pale at the description of Myrtle's death.

"Riddle found out the school was closing in the wake of the attacks, and he framed Hagrid for them quickly; Hagrid was raising an acromantula at the time, so it lent credence to the accusation," Charlotte said, not taking her sunglass covered eyes off of Riddle.

"Hagrid?" Cedric repeated in disbelief while he looked incredulously at Charlotte, knowing other Hogwarts students would be feeling the same thing he was at this news. "But he hasn't got a mean bone in him!"

"Didn't matter to Riddle. Hagrid was merely the means to an end for him. Riddle doesn't care one way or another what happens to his victims, or even who those victims are. He's a psychopath, an egomaniacal liar. He spent years lying to the blood supremacists, giving them the crap they wanted to listen to on a plate," Charlotte turned to look coldly at the spectre of the Dark Lord who had caused so much pain and grief over the years. "In any case, no-one barring one or two likely had a few questions or suspicions about what really happened, but nothing came of it. And once he left Hogwarts, he spent decades preparing to unleash his war on the magical world, coming back as the twisted SOB we know him as. Along the way, he twisted himself, so then his former good looks dissolved away as if he'd been bathed in acid."

"Don't speak about me as if I'm not here-!" Riddle spat.

"Oh, you're here alright, Riddle. In any case, why shouldn't I? It's not as if you're arguing back," Charlotte broke off suddenly, wondering why this version of Voldemort seemed….content just standing there, listening…only interrupting at different intervals.

"But he left something behind, something that took over someone else….," Fleur said, looking at the shadow of the Dark Lord apprehensively. "All to open the Chamber again….but what is the Chamber of Secrets?"

"I don't know if it was as simple as that," Charlotte shook her head. "When I spoke to the spectre I encountered two years ago, he essentially said he just wanted to meet me; attacking the muggle-born students was just a way of passing the time. And as for the Chamber, it was built by Salazar Slytherin, one of the Hogwarts Founders. It housed a basilisk, but what the rest of the Chamber was for...I don't know."

"I….see," Fleur whispered, looking at Riddle with revulsion, but the look of fear in her eyes at the mention of the basilisk was clear in her face.

"Killing mudbloods didn't mean anything to me then, Potter," Riddle said.

"No, just like setting off a full-scale war of magical genocide means nothing to you!" Charlotte burst out, surprising the other Champions with the intensity that surprised them. "Admit it, you don't really care about the pureblood supremacist junk; you're just an angry child lashing out at the world simply because you can."

"You know nothing about me, you filthy half-blood bitch!"

"Bit hypocritical, considering you're a half-blood yourself!" Charlotte shouted, spitting her blood rank out of her mouth with disgust. "By your own sick philosophy, you shouldn't even exist! Pity you won't do the world a favour, and finish the job. Rid the human race of _your filth! _You are a liar. All you've done is adopt that sick blood philosophy and twist it, saying all that crap about who should be alive and who shouldn't. You're one to talk. When you do return, your bastard followers who got off for their crimes because the Ministry was filled with dicks who were easily bought, should kill you with the same level of mercy you've shown your own victims, which is none!"

"It will never happen. I am the greatest wizard in the world!"

"That won't matter in the end, not if they work together to bring you down. You see, that's the problem with the British Magical World - I don't know if it applies with the other communities about the world - everyone just wants someone else to clean up the mess instead of taking responsibility personally for some crisis. But together, everyone is strong enough to take you on."

Riddle sneered disdainfully. "Big words for a girl who prefers to be independent."

"I've been fighting for so long by myself. I don't work in teams, and in any case, I think the British Wizarding community can work together for a change," Charlotte countered. "Drop that pathetic holier than thou crap about not wanting to get your hands dirty thinking you're better than others, take responsibility for a change."

Charlotte flicked her wand at Voldemort's spectre, suddenly tired of the meaningless discussion/argument, but mostly because so she could confirm a theory of hers.

The image of Tom Riddle just..disappeared.

Charlotte closed her eye in relief, pleased her hunch was correct, that the image of Riddle was just that, a plain image and nothing like the thing she had encountered two years ago. It was a relief, really; she hadn't wanted to go through a fight.

"That was….disappointing," Krum commented.

"True," Charlotte replied, turning to face him. "But something tells me he wasn't here in the sense he was here. I think that was an illusion of the real Tom Riddle."

"Was he really like that?" Fleur asked shakily. "I've heard stories about him, and they were terrifying-."

"What? Arrogant, domineering, evil, disgusting? Oh yes. He is like that. The bastard is still alive; he drove himself on to live forever, he's not going to stop because arseholes like Cornelius Fudge believe it's impossible," Charlotte replied. "No, he's out there, somewhere. Disembodied, holding onto the corporeal world by threads, but he wants to come back. And he's not the type to give up."

The Champions looked at each other, worried and concerned. Cedric was just scared in general about the war starting up again, but he also knew Magical Britain was simply not prepared for something like that.

Fleur and Viktor's worries were the same.

Voldemort, although not the same type of Dark Lord as Grindelwald, had spread his poison, and very rarely he had launched attacks against other magical communities. It had caused a lot of trouble for British relations, given how the British Ministry hadn't learnt anything from the old war with Grindelwald.

The notion of him coming back…

The diamond suddenly glowed, vibrating slightly.

"The portkey is active again. We can leave," Cedric pointed out, sounding tired.

"Tired, Cedric?" Charlotte asked.

"A little. When I woke up this morning, I expected an easy enough task. I guess I shouldn't have, eh?"

"I don't see why you're complaining, you haven't just witnessed the spectre of someone who's haunted you for years," Charlotte retorted while she stepped close to the diamond. The others came over as well.

"Do you think he'll try to kill you?" Fleur whispered.

Charlotte sighed. "Yes. I humiliated him, so long ago…Voldemort is a powerful, experienced wizard, but his greatest weaknesses are his ego and arrogance. He believed he was on top of the world, only weeks away from taking over the Ministry," she went on, recalling everything she had gleaned from the copies of the old newspapers she had found when she had researched the war her parents had fought in, "only to mysteriously lose his power, fighting a one-year-old baby girl."

"Do you know why-?"

"No, I never found out," Charlotte's voice was sharp as she interrupted Krum's question, knowing what it was the Bulgarian had in his mind, but she didn't know why he'd come after her requiring a fidellius charm in the first place, nor did she know how he had been blasted out of his body.

But as she touched the portkey and was whisked away to another part of the task, she wondered to herself what Voldemort was doing at that moment. She had no doubt it was because of him she was in this mess in the first place, but she hoped it had pissed him off what she had just said to that version of him just now.


	20. Chapter 20 Rise and the Fall

I don't own Harry Potter.

Please let me know what you think, although be warned - this chapter is nasty and you may not like what you find.

You have been warned.

* * *

The Hell of Fourth Year.

It was during the confrontation broadcasted by the mirror in the Quidditch stadium Dumbledore was confronted with Fudge, who had brought his entourage including the odious form of Dolores Umbridge with him, which was not really a surprise since the entourage was made up of people who fawned over Fudge and told him how brilliant he was.

The moment he saw Fudge marching towards him, believing that his righteous posture screamed that he was anything but a joke, Dumbledore prepared himself for the inevitable.

He wasn't surprised he was going to receive an earful from Fudge, but seeing him approach with both that strut which spoke volumes about the Minister's arrogance and his belief he was a great wizard and wise politician when he was anything but, striding across the pitch with the same entourage who fawned over him, trusting them all to give him excellent advice when in fact they were far out of their depth much like Fudge was himself, it said the opposite in Albus' mind.

Dumbledore had noticed Fudge's presence earlier as the Second Task had unfolded before their eye, but the Minister had not been anywhere near the proceedings, for which Dumbledore would be eternally grateful for although it was mostly because of his efforts to keep him from one of those pointless photo ops.

In Fudge's mind, Voldemort was dead. End of story. The fact they had just seen a younger version of the Dark Lord just as Riddle was about to embark on his life as a psychotic Dark Lord was likely already sending waves through the magical world and Dumbledore had to hide a smile at what Charlotte had said.

With any luck, many people would be asking questions about Voldemort's twisted philosophy, meaning many more would stay away from the Dark which would mean more and more families would not lose people along the way, and while he knew many would be protesting about the spectre of Tom Riddle in the Tournament, but Dumbledore already had something in mind to make sure no-one protested too far. He was old enough and experienced enough with politics to know how to call in a few favours if the protests went too far if his statement that he merely wished to challenge the Champions, and he had even prepared a contrite little apology if things didn't go the way that he wished.

In any case, he could always use the blackmail he had accumulated over the years to help him settle things down.

The only thing that worried him the most was when Charlotte had made that observation about having never experienced love before, but as Dumbledore thought it over he had to admit it was the case, although he would have been happier if his plans to connect Charlotte to Ronald Weasley had been fulfilled, but alas Dumbledore was no longer going to attempt that now he had given the matter serious thought, and decided to cut his losses and proceed with his plans.

"Now, see here, Dumbledore," Fudge protested in that usual blustering manner of his which never failed to grate on other people's nerves as he approached the judge's platform, "what is all this nonsense with You-Know-Who? That young boy cannot be him!"

Dumbledore sighed, wondering how he could escape from this diminutive moron and his equally stupid friends. He had never imagined Fudge would rise high in the ranks in the Ministry, especially since he had been a poor student and not a very bright wizard, but he had been surprised when Fudge had ascended to the position of Minister, although it was mostly thanks to his credit of arresting Sirius Black he had managed to get there in the first place.

That was one of the reasons why Fudge was so against the idea of Sirius being innocent, because he didn't want to lose his position as Minister, nor did he want it getting out he had gotten there on a lie. In the past Fudge had been polite, asking for Dumbledore's help and advice whenever he was out of his depth, and it had been a frequent occurrence since Fudge had always had problems with handling the day to day affairs. While he hadn't minded since it was good to have a new minion willing to listen to him, it had grated on Dumbledore's patience. He never got any thanks for his advice, and more than once he wondered if a little voice deep inside Fudge's brain was asking him why he had bothered becoming Minister since he couldn't make up his own mind about what needed doing.

While Fudge had been polite at first, and Dumbledore had been more than willing to help him but only if Fudge followed the agenda Albus set down for him, there were times Dumbledore wondered if it was worth it.

Unfortunately, others had scented blood, seeing the Minister as nothing more than a weakling. Among them was Lucius Malfoy, and although Dumbledore could hinder the arrogant blond Death Eater easily, Malfoy had poisoned Fudge's brain and made the Minister make decisions which in the long run would cause more harm than good.

But one of the things Dumbledore despised about Fudge was his inability and unwillingness to learn anything new.

"And why is that, Cornelius?" Dumbledore asked, waving his wand discreetly, absently noting that the few Aurors near the so-called Minister didn't react at all while he established the privacy ward around himself and the other judges but the Minister and his entourage while allowing them to see and hear what was happening in the task. He didn't want any of this to get out.

Fudge spluttered, lost for words before he recovered some of his composure. "Everyone knows You-Know-Who looked like a snake, that couldn't be him!"

Dumbledore closed his eyes for a moment so he could muster his patience, reminding himself once more why he had adopted the long game following the mess he and Grindelwald had made with that duel when Aberforth had interfered. While he could claim the Greater Good warranted his ideals and that all this was beneficial in the long run, having to cope with Fudge was one of those drawbacks. "You refuse to believe that Lord Voldemort looked like that, and yet you believe he resembled a humanoid snake during his school years?" Albus pointed out mildly.

As usual, whenever he was faced with a logical statement which contradicted his world view, Fudge just ignored it. "It cannot be him. I do not know what you are playing at, Dumbledore, but I will not allow you to spread panic about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Dumbledore lifted a brow. He wasn't impressed with the threat in Fudge's tone, but if the little fool believed that he could cause problems for Dumbledore, then the old wizard would make him regret it.

At that point Barty Crouch approached, gazing down at Fudge with a contempt that was not even masked. "Minister, we have already heard Miss Potter say that was him-," Crouch said, but he was interrupted quickly.

"Hem-Hem, only the word of a minor witch who is likely looking for attention," Dolores Umbridge simpered.

Dumbledore stared at her, wondering what had made her say that especially since everyone around the world had seen him make that oath. Did she live on Planet Earth or what?

But then he saw the way she pointed her gaze at Fudge, and then he realised what she was doing.

Crouch continued speaking as though he hadn't interrupted, but the look in his eyes as he fixed a glare onto Umbridge spoke volumes. "So she is faking that anger, is she? During this tournament, Miss Potter has proven to be a powerful and very mature young lady despite some of her harsher methods. If you feel that way, we can speak to her about it."

Fudge waved a hand. "No, there is no point. Dolores is right, the girl is obviously lying for attention, yes that's it!"

Dumbledore resisted the urge to curse the little pompous fool right there and then, not even hiding his annoyance at Fudge jumping at an explanation that he not only liked but approved of. The most amazing thing about Fudge was the little fool just had no idea of how ignorant he was in real life about his ignorance. He truly believed the nonsense he spouted and heard from other imbeciles around him. It was ridiculous.

It was as if his brain gathered data from all sources around him - the rational and the fantastic - and it just cherry-picked the best bits it liked while discarding the rest happily without any more thought while he moulded it into his own form of gospel truth.

In this case, Fudge believed that Umbridge was right about Charlotte, about her being a spoilt brat wanting attention any way she could while dismissing the fact Charlotte hadn't conjured this apparition of Voldemort, happily ignoring the fact he, Dumbledore, had gone to the trouble of swearing a magical oath that it was the truth.

Disgusted by the odious little man, Dumbledore turned away and fixed his attention on the task, watching as the Champions Portkeyed out of that part of the task, wondering how they'd take to the next challenge, inwardly wondering to himself if maybe when the time came he should just get Fudge thrown out of office…

XXX

The next place the Portkey landed them was a large chamber made completely of black stone that had been polished so brightly all of the Champions could see distorted reflections of themselves. The dim lighting of the room they were in made it hard for them to see how large this place was, and the mirrored reflections was a really eerie experience.

Fleur shuddered as she caught sight of one reflection of herself which was stretched really tall, and another reflection which made her look bloated and fat. "Merlin, now what?"

Cedric shuddered himself and he was forced to look away from the reflections of himself. "I can't see anything that I think is part of the Task."

Charlotte was silent as she herself looked around the mirrored place. She had to admit that Cedric had a point. There was no sign of anything here which looked like it belonged to the Task. But she knew there was a point to this, there had to be.

Even the Wizarding world was not stupid and complacent enough to land them here. In any case, after being dropped in that place with the chessboard, the sewer…Charlotte was willing to bet in the next few minutes, they would all know what this next challenge entailed.

"Hold on, what's that light?"

Charlotte looked around and saw through the dark lenses of her sunglasses the lighting of the room was turning a deep purple colour. She lifted her wands, mentally selecting different spells for different scenarios even though she was out of her depth. "I don't know. Where's it coming from?"

Krum spared her a look. "It's all around us."

Cedric noticed something odd about the reflections. "Hold it, look at the walls. The reflections are changing."

Charlotte turned to him and followed his gaze. Cedric was right, the reflections were changing. Where they'd been distorted before, now the images were becoming clearer, more refined.

"No, no it's just one patch. The rest of this place isn't changing," she said, seeing that the walls seemed to be melting around the patch of reflective surfacing like melting black ice.

Cedric stepped closer to her. "Any theories?" he asked.

Charlotte shrugged, mentally wondering why on Earth he was asking her. "I don't know. You've got me. We could be in some kind of maze, but then again we might not. So far, some of the challenges of this Task have proven to be elaborate, my guess is this part is too."

Fleur started chanting, running her wand over the wall. "I don't recognise some of the spells. I've just scanned the magic of the wall, and I can't make heads or tail of them. But I do recognise a strong illusion ward, but it's coupled to another spell entirely. Another enchantment."

"You don't recognise it, do you?" Charlotte asked while she held her own wands, tempted to join the French witch and run her own scans, using some of the spells taught to her by Ravenclaw and Slytherin, but she was torn. If she ran the scan, and if she recognised the enchantments on the wall, there was a chance Dumbledore would get suspicious…

Oh, what did it matter?

She had proven she was powerful and knowledgeable about magic, what did it matter now?

She lifted her wands and she waved them over the wall.

"Mm, it's not just an illusion ward. I wonder….hold on," she said, walking over to another part of the chamber and she waved her wands over the reflective surface while she tried not to look at the reflection of herself. She stood back in surprise, looking at the wall with surprise.

The other Champions noticed her posture.

"Potter, what is wrong?" Krum asked.

"Charlotte?"

Charlotte ignored them and she went to another patch of wall in the small chamber and performed the next scan. It was the same result. She went to another patch of wall to scan it, but she clearly got the same result.

"Charlotte, what's wrong?" Cedric asked, starting to lose his patience.

"You should have checked the rest of this place when you had the chance, Fleur," Charlotte said, running her wand over the walls. "This place is a cage."

"A cage?"

"Yeah, the enchantments are advanced, but there's more than enough here for me to work with to get some answers. One of the enchantments uses the same type of magic you'd find in a pensive; it goes through your mind, but why I don't know."

"How do you know all this?"

"Because I've been brushing up on my studies. In any case, when I learnt wizards and witches like Voldemort used the mind arts to tear through the minds of their victims, I wanted to be able to fight back," Charlotte replied, making Cedric shudder. Out of all the Champions, the British born wizard was more than aware of the violent reputation of the evil wizard who'd terrorised the British Isles and in some areas of Europe, and he had heard horror stories of how some of You-Know-Who's victims had been mentally destroyed, reduced to vegetables before begging for death.

And the bastard had been more than willing to oblige, claiming he was a merciful lord.

Hearing the Girl Who Lived say she had studied long and hard to avoid such a fate made a degree of sense. But it was no way for anyone to live, and Cedric wondered what else Charlotte had up her sleeves, especially when you took into perspective the fact she was thief.

"But what is the point?" Cedric asked.

Fleur shivered. "Oui, what is the point? Why would they set this up, a place where they go through our minds?"

Krum glowered around him, clenching his fist around the handle of his wand. "It seems they're willing to go to any lengths to get entertainment, yes? Even invade our privacy, reveal our secrets…."

A gentle beam of light suddenly shone into the faces of the Champions, shining into Fleur's face first. Startled, the French Veela backed away, clenching her eyes shut before the beam moved off.

"W-what was that?" Fleur asked, watching as the beam moved off to shine into Cedric's face.

The Hufflepuff Champion was just as startled by the beam, but unlike Fleur the wizard was more alert after seeing the light shine in the face of his competitor. "I don't feel anything…," he commented slowly. "But I do feel a light brushing against my own occlumency barriers."

"Mm, now I think about it I did feel something in my own mind, but I was too startled to understand what it was," Fleur commented before the beam moved away from Cedric and switched over to Viktor, who jumped in surprise.

Unlike the last two Champions, the Durmstrang Champion was more fearful of the beam. He tried backing away from the beam when it shone on him, and he backed away in terror.

"It's okay, Viktor," Cedric said soothingly, holding up his hands to placate the other wizard, but Charlotte personally thought he was wasting his time.

"How do you know that?!" Viktor glared at Cedric, anger warring with fear in his face. "You don't know, do you, just how seriously wizards in my part of Europe take mental invasion? To us, it is the ultimate crime as the mind is sacred. For all, we know the judges of this Tournament plan to rip our memories out and play them out for their amusement."

"Viktor's right; it wouldn't be the first time some witches and wizards crossed the boundaries of what was acceptable and unacceptable, and they wouldn't think twice about looking into our minds without looking to the long-term consequences," Charlotte commented, looking at the beam with an ugly expression under her sunglasses. She didn't like this anymore than they did.

The beam of light shining on Viktor didn't stay long, mostly because the Bulgarian was so fearful of the thought of his mind being ransacked, and eventually the beam lost patience and it moved away from Viktor and it moved onto Charlotte, who was as thrilled by its as Viktor was himself. But unlike the Bulgarian and the other two Champions, the light seemed more persistent as if suddenly interested in Charlotte.

The light changed colour as it shone on Charlotte, turning from an unremarkable white colour to a red colour.

"What's going on?" Charlotte asked, surprised by the sudden change of colour.

None of the Champions could answer her question. On the original part of the wall which had transformed earlier but had been temporarily forgotten while the beam had shone on them misted over, thickening until it resembled thick, choking smoke. To the Champions surprise the entire chamber they were standing in seemed to vanish into a puff of smoke before the image cleared.

"Wh-what is that?" Fleur asked, looking in surprise as the image solidified. They were standing inside an unnaturally clean interior of a house with a large armchair with a matching sofa. On the mantlepiece and on nearby shelves was a collection of photographs Fleur was bemused of since they showed what looked like a large pink beachball. She walked over to the shelves and saw a really large boy with blond hair and watery little blue eyes growing up in life.

"Oh, no."

Fleur looked up at the sound of Charlotte's voice. The younger witch was looking around herself with an expression which seemed to be mixing between rage and terror. "No, no, no. Please….don't let it be….here!"

Suddenly the Champions heard a scream, the scream of a little girl.

Charlotte was on the point of hyperventilating when she and the other Champions saw a large, purple-faced man towering over a very small, very terrified black-haired girl.

"YOU LITTLE FREAK! HOW DARE YOU DESTROY OUR DINNER! WE TAKE YOU IN UNDER THE GOODNESS OF OUR HEARTS, AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY US!" the man screamed before lashing out with a meaty fist and punched the girl right in the cheek.

Fleur's eyes widened in horror and she clapped a hand to her mouth when the man punched the girl, making her scream. The French Champion looked at the others, seeing their own horrified reactions to what they were witnessing while the little girl whimpered in pain and fear. Suddenly she lifted her head, and everyone around the world took in the delicate face, the emerald green eyes and the lightning bolt-shaped scar.

The Champions looked on in horror, looking between the small girl and Charlotte, who was only just now starting to get her composure back - Fleur and Viktor recognised it as occlumency, and judging from the ease she seemed to use to bring her emotions under control, she was stamping down hard on her feelings. The expression on the youngest Champion's face, even underneath the sunglasses was closed off, but they could tell whatever Charlotte was thinking, whatever emotion she was feeling, it was blazing with terrible strength as she watched as her younger self was beaten.

The child Charlotte sobbed as she clutched her cheek out of reflex, her eyes watering with pain.

"STOP CRYING!" the fat man screamed, punching the girl again, making her cry out again.

"And people wonder why I am indifferent and uncaring when it comes to muggles," Charlotte commented darkly, her gaze focused on the fat muggle.

Cedric looked at her worriedly, a part of him remembering vaguely how indifferent Charlotte had been back in Second Year when everyone had accused her of setting the basilisk on the school. Perhaps deep down she truly hated muggles, and after seeing this who could blame her, but now he was wondering how she could be so calm seeing this. But then he noticed her clenched fists, and he realised she was furious. No, she was enraged.

He felt the same. What kind of mind would come up with a challenge like this? Why, what was the point?

"I-I c-c-couldn't reach the c-cooker, Uncle Vernon!" the little girl sobbed, her tiny voice shaking with fear and pain.

"YOU CALL THAT AN EXCUSE, YOU LAZY, WORTHLESS FREAK! YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED WITH YOUR WORTHLESS PARENTS IN THAT CAR CRASH!" Vernon yelled before he grabbed the girl, and threw her screaming into a cupboard under the stairs.

"That filthy cupboard was my bedroom for my childhood," Charlotte growled, letting some of her darker emotions out. "Those filthy muggles shoved me in there to punish me, I was forced to live in my own excrement. Not that anyone on that filthy muggle street gave a toss, just like nobody in fucking Hogwarts did."

Cedric was looking at her in horror. It was one thing hearing about what Charlotte had gone through, but seeing it was something else.

The memory suddenly changed, showing Charlotte working in the kitchen while trying to keep her head down. Unfortunately, everyone around the room took note of Vernon's piggy eyes watching her. Unexpectedly the fat muggle stood up and leaned against the counter as he watched the young girl.

"It's your birthday today, isn't it, Girl?" the fat muggle said in a conversational voice.

Fleur frowned at the emphasis on the word girl. Why didn't the muggle use Charlotte's name.

The memory Charlotte looked up suddenly, stunned by the question. "Y-yes, Uncle Vernon," she replied.

"Well, I think you deserve your birthday present."

The look on Charlotte's face was heartbreaking. "M-my present?" she repeated.

"Yes," Vernon replied, walking around the kitchen to where there was a strangely shaped kettle.

Charlotte watched him curiously. "What is my birthday present?"

"It's just coming," Vernon suddenly said.

Charlotte nodded, and she even let loose some of the excitement she was obviously feeling at getting a present. Just seeing the excitement worried and upset Fleur, and she was sure her feelings were being shared around the world, but what terrified the French Veela the most was that this was a complete 180 from what they had seen so far.

The kettle whistled, wisps of steam rising from the spout as the water reached the boiling point. Vernon lifted the kettle off of the mount and walked over to where Charlotte was standing. Suddenly he punched her in the face, making her cry in pain before he knocked her to the floor.

He bent down and tore off the girl's oversized shirt, exposing her creamy white skin which had been marred with scars from dozens of previous beatings.

"Here's your birthday present, Freak!" Vernon said, and with that, he poured the boiling hot water unto Charlotte's exposed skin. The girl screamed in pain, and Fleur and the other three Champions winced at the volume of the scream while Charlotte watched, listening to her younger self cry.

The memory changed, this time showing a bedroom with a massive double bed. Fleur grimaced; even by the standards of women, this bedroom was tacky beyond belief, but any further thought was stopped when they heard a familiar scream and the muffled voice of Vernon.

"Shut up, girl!"

The door to the bedroom crashed open and Vernon stormed in carrying Charlotte under his arm. It was obvious the fat muggle was holding her too tightly since Charlotte was struggling to escape. It aggravated Vernon, and he smacked her over the head. The blow stunned Charlotte and she drooped like a doll.

Fleur shivered when she took in the hideous grin on Vernon's face, and she felt a lot of foreboding when he threw Charlotte onto the bed. The girl was moaning a little in pain, her eyes dazed from the blow she'd just received and she was breathing heavily to try to bring in some fresh air into her lungs after having nearly been choked to death.

The French Veela had a bad feeling about this scene, a terrible idea dawning in her mind. One glance at the other Champions and she could see the same thought had occurred to them, but one look at Charlotte's expression told her nothing.

Her worst fears were confirmed when Vernon lifted a hand and rested it on Charlotte's thigh. He didn't slap it, he just stroked it. Fleur clapped her hand to her mouth again in horror when she watched the fat pig of a muggle take off his trousers. She had to close her eyes and turn away when Charlotte let out a hideous scream of agony as the muggle raped her, tears streaming down her little face as Vernon laughed, enjoying her pain and torment as he carried on.

Cedric looked between the scene and the girl next to him in horror. Charlotte had admitted she had been abused mentally and physically, but he hadn't expected it to be this horrific.

Rape.

Charlotte had been raped, as a child.

By her own relatives, no less. She had been raped, and yet no-one had done anything about it. Cedric truly hoped that Dumbledore hadn't known about this, because if he had and he had still done nothing, then it would destroy the faith so many people had for the ancient wizard.

He had heard from Charlotte the Dursleys hated magic, but to take it to this extent…

Fortunately, or unfortunately, the memory changed again. This time Charlotte physically shivered when she heard the terrified meows of a very small kitten.

"No," she whispered. "Please, not again…!"

"Where did you get this filthy animal, girl?" a horse-faced woman, who was clearly Vernon's wife hissed. Next to her was an obese boy whom Fleur took to be around Charlotte's age, but it was hard to be sure. The boy was fat, really fat. It was hard to believe any responsible parent would ever allow their child to become that fat so quickly.

Charlotte looked at the woman terrified while she cuddled the kitten to her chest. "I-I found her outside," the girl squeaked. "Please, don't hurt her!"

"HURT IT! WE DON'T WANT IT IN THIS HOUSE! FREAKS KEEP PETS, NOT NORMAL PEOPLE!" Vernon growled, and he reached out and grabbed the cat. The kitten, already agitated by the shouting and the hostility, lashed out with its small, but very sharp claws.

Vernon yelled and immediately sucked his finger, but he recovered quickly. Charlotte gasped in horror when she saw the rage in her uncle's eye, but before she registered what was happening, she was hit in the face. When she recovered, everyone's eyes widened in horror when they saw the thrashing and terrified young cat in Vernon's hands. One hand was going around the panicking kittens' neck...

"No! Please!" Charlotte screamed, but it was too late, with one last pained meow, the fat muggle snapped the cat's neck. The other Dursleys were cheering him on, while the younger boy jeered in Charlotte's face while the small girl cradled the cat's body in her arms, crying at the sight of its neck and head at an unnatural angle. The muggles didn't notice the look in the young witch's eyes, but the audience did.

The emerald green eyes were watering with tears as she was upset she had just lost a friend, but there was another darker emotion there.

Hatred.

As she watched the scenes play out, Charlotte was trying hard not to react. In her mind, she was enraged her privacy had been invaded in such a wanton manner, but what worried her the most was what else would be revealed.

There were many memories, things, she didn't want to be revealed, ever.

Her burglaries. The robbery in Belgravia which had gone terribly wrong. Her animagus transformation. But most of all, she did not want the magical world to know what had happened to the Dursleys. Cedric knowing was one thing, the rest of the magical world would be disastrous, and judging by the look she was receiving, she could tell he had picked up on the same thought.

Under no circumstances was the wizarding world to discover what had happened to the Dursleys.


	21. Chapter 21 The Final Hurdle

I don't own Harry Potter, I just own this story - you should know the drill by now.

Anyway, the Second Task is almost done, which I know will please some people but I'd wanted to have little challenges within the task to spice things up a bit. Also, this chapter...I was tempted to have the memory showing Charlotte murdering the Dursleys in accordance with my original plan, but I hope you enjoy what I've got here, including the little tidbits in the chapter where more conflict awaits.

Enjoy!

* * *

The Hell of Fourth Year.

Dumbledore felt paralysed with horror as he stared at the memories playing out, his mind in between denial and acceptance of what he was witnessing. No, this couldn't be. But he knew it was so. He knew the memory projection spell which he and the other organisers had enchanted in this particular challenge was to always show the true memory of the Champions to make them confront their own horrendous memories.

"I told you."

Dumbledore was snapped out of his thoughts, only to receive a stinging slap to the cheek. Wincing in pain, it took a moment for the aged wizard to push the pain aside to focus on whomever it was who had slapped him. And he focused on Minerva McGonagall, tears sliding down her cheeks while she was visibly shaking with rage.

Dumbledore sighed.

He should have expected this but truthfully until the Champions themselves had reached this level of the Tournament - why they had needed to have so many obstacles for them, just to 'spice things up' he would never know, but he had tried to tell the other organisers of the tournament that what they were planning was a bad idea, but no. They wouldn't have it.

They had wanted to make the Second Task more complicated than it had needed to be. They had shoved the Champions into the Task to tackle one obstacle after another, but when they had come up with this one after they had spent weeks and weeks together going over numerous old spells which could give them a Task they could, as they say 'spice things up,' he had protested. Dumbledore didn't have a problem with looking into the minds of others. Indeed, it was one of his favourite information-gathering tactics, but he drew the line when it came to projecting memories for the world to see, just to watch if the Champion collapsed in horror.

Well, he guessed this was inevitable.

"I told you, Albus!" Minerva was so angry her voice was hoarse; that surprised Dumbledore since he knew when his Deputy Headmistress and longtime friend and former apprentice was angry, her Scottish brogue became more prominent, but she must have been so enraged she could hardly speak. "I told you those were the worst sort of muggles imaginable, but you never listen, do you!? You are always so sure of your own view, you never stop to listen to anyone!"

Dumbledore remembered the night where he, Minerva and Hagrid dropped off little Charlotte on the doorstep of Number 4 Privet Drive shortly after Lily and James…. died. He had ignored what she had said about the Dursleys and how they were the worst sort of muggles imaginable. Minerva hadn't realised it but Dumbledore already knew that about the Dursleys. He had spent years receiving letters from Petunia Dursley nee Evans, who had begged and begged him to let her attend Hogwarts even if she didn't even have magic.

Dumbledore had long since known you could tell a great deal about the mindset of people from how they wrote to you, and after a number of letters he had found Petunia Evans to be nothing more than a bigot who hated everything she didn't understand, but she just wanted to get one up on her sister, Lily.

"They were her only relatives, Minerva," Dumbledore answered at last while he slipped his wand from his inner pocket out to remind Minerva that while he wouldn't sink so low to hit her back, he was still a master wizard and he was not going to let _anyone _try that again. "She had become a celebrity overnight following the murder of her family, and if she became a ward of the Ministry or was given off to one of the dark families, she would either have died long ago, or she would have become nothing more than a puppet, and then you would have lashed out at me for allowing that. I didn't know about the abuse!"

"Don't try to wriggle your way out of this!" Minerva hissed, although what he had said had struck a nerve. She knew he was right. She knew the Ministry, had they gotten their hands on the last Potter who had become the Girl Who Lived, would have paraded her up and down to follow their whims like a puppy playing tricks. They wouldn't have cared for her as a young witch, they would never have allowed her to develop as a person, but a tool especially when You-Know-Who returned from wherever he had gone hiding.

Minerva knew the Ministry, especially Fudge and Umbridge, had no love for Charlotte, but they would have flocked to her because it was politically convenient. But when they had sucked her dry, once her purpose was fulfilled….

Minerva had no idea what would have happened to Charlotte if that had happened, but she knew Lily and James would never forgive the Magical world for allowing their only child to suffer like that.

They had died for her. They wouldn't have wanted her to become an unthinking puppet of the Ministry, let alone be a victim because someone stupidly placed her with one of the dark families, and as much as Dumbledore had angered her, he had a point and she knew it.

Charlotte could very well have died had she been handed over to one of the more extreme dark families who wouldn't have cared one iota if they were murdering an innocent baby whose only crime was surviving against their sick master.

But that didn't excuse Dumbledore allowing this abuse. After everything she had seen this year and during Charlottes' time at Hogwarts, Minerva had come to realise whenever it came to Charlotte Potter, Albus Dumbledore had his own agenda for her and he didn't seem to really care or think about the long term harm he could be causing to her.

"I know you, Albus. You have some kind of long-term plan for Charlotte, and it involves _him," _she spat, referencing Voldemort without speaking of him with anything other than the contempt the Dark Lord deserved. "You have also talked about putting Charlotte into homes she really doesn't want to live in, _for her safety. _You have meddled in her life, even going as far as to say who she can date when it has got nothing to do with you! I refuse to believe you hadn't placed some kind of watch around the Dursleys, I also remember the way you reacted when we found out they'd died. You were panicking, muttering that Charlotte needed to be safe."

"I was!" Dumbledore knew this argument was getting them nowhere, but what he really wanted to do was to stop it being broadcasted around the entire magical world. The magical communities watching this Task not only watched and listened to the Champions so they felt as if they were there with them, but they also listened to the commentary of the judges themselves as they watched and critiqued the performance of the Champions. The last thing Dumbledore wanted was for this to be broadcasted, especially since it would make many people realise he hadn't only placed one of his own students even if it was known now Charlotte had resigned from Hogwarts in an abusive environment, he must have known about the abuse, but he had done nothing about it. "I didn't know this was happening. I would have stopped it!" he finished, hoping everyone bought his little white lie.

Oh, he might have stopped the rape, but not the abuse.

No, the abuse had been essential for his plan to ensure Charlotte was conditioned the way he had needed her to be. He had known had she been raised in the magical world, as a ward of the Ministry or one of the other families who would claim relation to her, then Charlotte would have been spoilt, wilful. He hadn't wanted that although he was disgusted with the steps he had needed to take to create a weapon capable of ending Voldemort once and for all.

Dumbledore had always known Charlotte would have been abused by the Dursleys.

In fact, it had been the main reason why he had placed her there in the first place. It was disgusting what he had done, placing a child in an abusive house to deal with a situation which he knew should have been dealt with a long time ago. And he knew if _they _returned and discovered what he had done, then they would destroy everything he had tried to do mostly for his own benefit.

But abuse had always been in the cards.

Petunia and Vernon Dursley had both been disgusting people, he had known that after taking one look into their incredibly bigoted minds that wouldn't have been out of place amongst the Death Eaters. Dumbledore had known from the moment he had dropped Charlotte off on the doorstep of that seemingly ordinary, boring muggle house (why they had to live like that, he had never worked out) she would be abused.

He had long since hoped this particular dirty little secret out of a whole collection of dirty little secrets _never _got out. He had hoped, if his plans had gone through the way he had long wished they had, then he could give Charlotte the excuse he hadn't wanted her to be a spoilt little princess but that she had survived a long, hard life at the Dursleys instead.

But he had no intention of saying out aloud.

Many people were already criticising him for the poor mismanagement of things at Hogwarts, starting from how he had allowed bullying to become so serious the Girl Who Lived herself had been maimed in the eye, the loss of one of the oldest patrons of Hogwarts whose family had enriched the school for centuries, but he had also been accused of forcing a union between Charlotte and a boy who had bullied and harassed her since this mess had started.

The outcry towards the Weasley family had been severe due to Ronald's actions, but Dumbledore hadn't bothered trying to defend the boy. He had decided to separate himself from them, although he had no idea how much good it would do.

In short, Dumbledore knew things did not look good.

So, the last thing he needed was for it to get out he had not only placed young Charlotte Potter in an abusive house, but he had known what things were like there, and he hadn't bothered to check on her. Dumbledore knew only too well what could happen if they received that information on top of everything else.

He could be kicked out of Hogwarts for good. That was unacceptable, especially since Hogwarts was the perfect base for Dumbledore's plans and operations, and from there he could rule from behind the scenes, which Fudge and many of his mindless imbeciles simply didn't realise, and he was sure even clever and cunning wizards like Lucius Malfoy didn't even realise because he was influencing the minds of the next generations of witches and wizards.

In the past, it hadn't been a problem. Many times in the last thirty years or so, many people had tried to get him evicted from Hogwarts. They had failed. But that was only because their accusations and their reasons were proven to be unfounded.

But allowing child abuse against a specific young witch and knowing that the bullying against one specific student who happened to be that specific young witch who was the last heiress of a very old and powerful magical family even if the Potters had kept away from politics was going on, and refusing to do anything about it or even going as far as to punish the perpetrators despite knowing how bad it was getting, would make the bullies think they were untouchable - he had read more than one article where foreign magical reporters used their intelligence to work out the flaws in his policy of blanket forgiveness to show people the light - which resulted in the loss of one of her eyes would mean his many political enemies would finally have the leverage they would need to kick him out at last.

Dumbledore had worked hard for the last few weeks to make sure that didn't happen.

Alas, it looked like his efforts had failed. Everything, as the muggles would say, had gone down the drain.

He only wished nothing else happened, and Minerva kept her mouth shut.

Minerva shook her head, tears rolling down her cheeks as she glared scornfully at him. "I don't believe you," she spat scornfully. "You have never cared about her before, why should you start now?"

"Oh, and I suppose you have the moral high ground in this mess, do you, Minerva?" Dumbledore refused to be just the only other person who was responsible for this mess, and out of the corner of his eyes, he saw several people already taking note of this. "You yourself knew where Charlotte was, all the time. You could have left Hogwarts for a day or so, and visited her to see how she was doing. I know full well you never did, even though I came into your office a few times, gazing wistfully at a photograph of Charlotte."

Dumbledore saw with some sadistic satisfaction Minerva took a step back. _Good_, he thought to himself, _hopefully, that will teach her her place. _

McGonagall could not believe what Dumbledore had just said, but no matter what he said couldn't be refuted. Dumbledore was right. She had not only known where Charlotte was or so she believed since it had been a terrible blow to find out Charlotte had vanished and the Dursleys were dead.

But the personal stain on her soul disgusted her.

She had _known _the Dursleys were unfit as guardians for Charlotte, especially since she had received a few letters from Petunia Dursley, begging to come to Hogwarts, and how the muggle was so desperate that she didn't bother to correct her bigoted language, and the horrible things she had said in those letters had eventually annoyed Minerva so much especially when the stupid muggle girl had written _if you let in a freak like perfect Lily into your freaky school, I deserve to come, too_, she had sent a Howler to the Evans' home so the elder Evanses found out what their daughter had done.

Minerva didn't know and frankly did not care what the stupid girl received for that stunt, but she had made sure the girls' parents knew how much of a bigot Petunia was. She knew Lily had grown to despise Petunia over the years, although that was easy really, she had no idea what her actions had done to their relationship on the whole.

But having her own stupidity thrown back into her face….

Minerva could see why Dumbledore had done it, he wanted her to stop going on about while adopting a kind of moral high ground. Minerva knew Dumbledore very well, and she knew he never did anything without a reason. He wanted some of the blame to be passed onto her since she had known where the girl was living originally, but she knew better than to say he had told her to grow up without any knowledge of the magical world to burden her with.

Like with many things that came from Dumbledore, Minerva hadn't seen the point behind the order, but as always she had followed the command believing Albus Dumbledore knew best.

She hadn't expected him to do this, and she had no idea what was going to come next. All she knew was this would not be well received by anybody in the magical world.

XXX

"Petunia, that….bitch!"

"I know."

"She-!"

"I know," the man sighed, shaking his head. "But what I can't understand is how it happened."

"And her history…," the woman shook her head in wonder and horror. "What I want to know is what happened to Charlotte after we were so sure she had been killed a month before Voldemort showed up."

The man closed his eyes. "When Dumbledore told us about that…. I thought I was going to die. That little girl….she was…is the apple of my eye. When Dumbledore showed the proof, I believed it. The bastard lied to us, Lily. The bastard lied!"

Lily Potter nodded, tears rolling down her face. "What amazes me is the fact he is still acting all holier than thou, claiming he didn't know anything about the abuse. I don't believe him."

"Neither do I, especially after what I've heard," James sighed. "What the fuck was McGonagall thinking, if she knew where Dumbledore had dumped Charlotte, why didn't she check on her?"

"What?" Lily scoffed, making her husband turn to her. "Minerva McGonagall, defying Dumbledore? Using her own initiative? James, the woman is a weak-willed joke! Everyone muggle-born in my day knew better than to trust the teachers when those damn junior Death Eaters simply would not leave us alone. Okay, some of them made some effort to help, but McGonagall was not one of them. She turned away a muggle-born girl who was eleven years old when she told the so-called Head of the Lions she was being harassed by a bunch of boys, who had gotten away with slaps on the wrist. She was almost raped before I stepped in. I had a screaming match with McGonagall over that, but even then the woman said that Dumbledore had everything under control. I lost any respect I had for her, and the laughable thing about it was the stupid bitch thought I respected her and believed she was my favourite professor. Yeah, right, in her dreams!

"There's no doubt in my mind, James; McGonagall was either told to stay away from the Dursleys or more likely Dumbledore spun her some stupid lie to keep her away. In any case, you've read the news as I have; Charlotte was a Gryffindor, and yet she lost her eye because Dumbledore in all of his wisdom decided to just allow her to be bullied because of his stupid games which have now blown up in his face and because they weren't punished one of them took it too far. She's left Hogwarts, James, disowned it. And she has taken the Potter family out of Hogwarts. For good!"

James shook his head. "I don't care about that. All I care about is that my daughter, my Charlotte, has been hurt. That fat pig raped her, and you're right, Dumbledore would have spun some shit and made Vernon Dursley out to be a saint!"

"Are the arrangements ready?" Lily said, not wanting to think of her obese thug of a brother in law. "Almost," James sighed and looked down for a second before he raised his head again. "What are we going to say to Jason?"

Lily sighed and looked away. "I don't know," she whispered, walking a few meters away from her husband. "He's still jealous of her, James. Sometimes I wish we'd never shown him those memories."

"We didn't have that much choice, Lily," James hugged her around her waist. "When we told him he had a sister, he was enthusiastic, but he was jealous of her because her accidental magic was stronger than his when she was younger, and that was before you factor in that damn prophecy. I shouldn't have said anything about it."

"No," Lily sighed. "We thought with Charlotte gone and the prophecy no longer hanging over our heads, it didn't make any difference. After watching those Star Wars movies, and Lord of the Rings, Jason's gotten it into his mind anyone meant to do something against evil is a hero. He feels inadequate. I think it's our fault, mainly," she whispered and turned to face her husband, "but after what we thought had happened to Charlotte, I didn't want to lose another baby especially to a dark wizard with delusions of grandeur."

"I know. But ever since we found out Charlotte was alive, he's been sulky and brooding. He was okay before, but now we know she's alive and we're moving to Britain, he's acting like a typical teen. He just doesn't want to leave his friends behind," James said.

"I'm just dreading what he'll be like when we move back. Jason is jealous of Charlotte, especially after seeing what she's been doing in the tournament, and he has gone out of his way to study magic to make himself better. And Charlotte has had an awful life. What worries me the most is he'll find out his sister was raped, he'll think he's better than her for some sick reason I dread to imagine what's going to happen when they meet; if Jason tries to do anything with her, especially after everything she's been through, she might kill him. That's what I'm afraid of."

XXX

Sirius was watching the mirror in horror. "That….that filthy muggle!"

Remus looked at his friend in horror at what they had just seen.

"That filthy muggle touched my goddaughter!"

"I know, Sirius," Lupin's voice was choked, tears rolling out of his near atrophied tear ducts which had seen so many salty tears leak out of his eyes and making their way down his face. He had sobbed over how his family had treated him after Greyback bit him and transformed him into a monster. He had sobbed when he had been so sure Snape would tell everyone about his secret. He had cried when Lily and James had both died, and he had cried harder when he had learnt Sirius had supposedly betrayed them all while he hadn't spared Charlotte a single thought.

He had cried when he had realised the depths of his mistake thanks to Dumbledore's insane orders, but now he was crying that Charlotte was paying the price for the hubris of the Marauders. Remus had come to the conclusion the Marauders, on the whole, had been foolish and careless, and they had lacked the mentality to truly take anything seriously.

But the tragic thing was Lupin had never seen it like that. It was only now where everything had been torn apart with so many things now shown to be nothing but senseless lies like Pettigrew betraying them all to Voldemort, Lily and James' equally senseless deaths and Charlotte being abandoned by all of them, although could it be called that if Sirius had been locked away?

Remus had begun to think so.

Sirius, if you looked at it from a certain angle, one Charlotte was _definitely _seeing things now, had walked away from Charlotte, letting his hotheaded temper get the better of him, and he had gotten thrown into Azkaban. Even now Lupin was amazed Pettigrew had even found the cunning needed to pull something like that off, and he wondered if it had always been there, hidden underneath the facade of meekness and cowardice the little piece of vermin (pun intended) showed off.

As for him, he had just walked away from everything and everyone whom he had cared about, including Charlotte. Not once had he given her much thought, although there had been fleeting moments. But thanks to Dumbledore telling him to stay away, he had done exactly what he had always done; just bowed his head and meekly did as he was told.

Lupin wanted nothing more than to go out and commit suicide. He'd been free, he could have defied Dumbledore's orders, he could have gone to see Charlotte just once as she was growing up. He closed his eyes, thinking about what could have been. He could have seen Charlotte, and he could have smelt the abuse easily enough, and he could have gotten her out, but he hadn't cared enough about the child of one of his friends who had died thinking his friends would show some loyalty and help look after and raise his only child when the opportunity for more had been snatched from by a genocidal maniac.

"Sirius, there's nothing we can do," Lupin stood up and went to his friend, although he did so cautiously since Sirius had been hitting the bottle frequently, and his moods were more volatile than ever.

Sirius turned to face him. Lupin took a step back out of reflex when he saw the expression in his face. "You….you could have helped her! WHY DIDN'T YOU?"

Lupin lowered his head. "Dumbledore. He said-."

"Dumbledore! Dumbledore says this and Dumbledore says that!" Sirius leapt to his feet, almost foaming at the mouth with rage, the classic picture of a mad dog. Somehow it fitted him perfectly. "Doesn't anyone think for themselves?"

"Oh, and you do?!" Lupin yelled back, refusing to accept that. And besides, he was tired of this. Lupin had been blamed for quite a bit from Sirius recently since he made a convenient cursing bag, and he had had enough. "You went after Pettigrew without giving Charlotte a second thought. Even when you were in Azkaban, you could have used your animagus form to slip out at any moment, but you only bothered when you recognised the little bastard in that newspaper article which was a one hundred to one chance at all! You didn't give any thought about Charlotte at all, just Pettigrew and your hotheaded desire for revenge and your fucking pride! I don't remember you saying anything when Dumbledore told us to fight the way we did during the war. When did you say no when he told us to abandon her when her name came out of the Goblet? We've brought this whole mess down on us, Sirius! There is nothing we can do, and blaming me for everything won't get you anywhere!"

Lupin's argument made Sirius wilt with each word, and he collapsed back in his seat, crying.

XXX

The Champions were feeling sick as more and more of Charlotte's memories appeared; Charlotte being bullied in school where her own cousin would bully and beat up anyone who dared try to be nice to the small black-haired girl, Charlotte living on the streets suffering from colds or being chased away by other homeless kids who saw her as a threat, fights on the streets where she was lucky to get out alive….

"Enough is enough!" Charlotte suddenly snapped startling all of them, and she waved her twin wands around them all. The Chamber they were in suddenly cracked with the cracks growing larger and wider until the entire Chamber cracked but instead of collapsing all around them it all disappeared showing they were in a forest near a podium with an old football on it.

Charlotte sighed and looked at her wands in relief, but she was shaking from both shock and anger at the same time. She hadn't expected Dumbledore to go that far. Yes, he was a nosey bastard with delusions of grandeur and loved telling people what to do with their lives, but she had never expected him to go as far as to _set up a challenge in the Tournament where their memories would be exposed to the world. _

Was it just her or was _privacy _an alien concept in the magical world? It never failed to amaze her with just how far people would go when they wanted to know something just because they felt they had the right. When she had found out Rita Skeeter was nosing her way around the castle after she'd insulted the arrogant reporter, Charlotte had changed into her cat form to spy on her. It hadn't taken her long to find her either, although Charlotte was surprised the woman was an animagus. But her surprise quickly faded; the woman was ambitious, arrogant, and she loved causing pain to people but she wasn't stupid. She knew that while there were spells on homes to prevent eavesdropping, there were few preventing animagi to spy on people.

That was how Rita used her form. It was simple, but it worked far better than her blunt approach ever did. Truly, the woman would have been an exceptional spy if she wasn't so dedicated to gossip-mongering.

In cat form, Charlotte had hunted her down by using her scent after she had used the Marauder's Map to find out where she was. After that, she simply transformed into her cat form and hunted the reporter down by scent. She hadn't injured the beetle animagus, just played with her even if the disgusted insect had tried valiantly to escape from the cat who was playing roughly with her before giving up and changed back into her human form to drive her away. The best thing about beetle animagi was they didn't have the same smelling capability of a cat, showing which one was truly better. Rita never even realised the cat who'd played with her was Charlotte Potter and the teenager now knew of her secret.

But this was different.

This was an invasion on a higher level. Charlotte didn't care who knew about the abuse she'd suffered at the hands of the Dursleys. In fact, the more people that did know, the more damage it would cause to the fools who believed muggles were harmless people although she hoped the extremists didn't go too far although she knew it was a vain hope. Everyone in the magical community worldwide had witnessed a magical child be abused in terrible ways, seeing everything from the 'birthday presents' the Dursleys gave her, their anniversary gifts for her parents' deaths, and even the murder of that cat. She was just relieved they hadn't seen her memory of what she had done to the Dursleys.

Or to…..them.

Charlotte instantly clamped down on those memories. She hadn't given any thought at all to that filthy muggle family, if family was the right word to describe them in years, but she would never forget the people who had crossed the line the Dursleys had never even seen. She had always thought the Dursleys to be the worst muggle filth ever, but those people… She was just thankful her occlumency barriers around the whole horrible event had kept the spell which had projected her memories to every corner of the magical world hadn't pierced them. If the world saw that….

Pushing those thoughts aside for now although she would need a moment or an hour to properly examine what to do about those memories, Charlotte had other things to consider. She honestly had no idea what the magical world would make of what they had seen long term, but she hoped they didn't do anything extreme with the muggles, who would react and lash out at the magical world if wizards revealed themselves.

She turned her mind to the spell which had done this in the first place. When she had scanned the chamber, she hadn't just done a cursory scan like Fleur. No, she had also added another nifty spell which would use the scan to find the best way to cancel the spell out.

"Charlotte-," Cedric said and she looked solemnly at him. The older boy looked like his entire world had been shattered, and the pitying way he was looking at her was touching but it didn't annoy her.

"Let's just get out of here," she said. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Does anybody else know?" Fleur asked.

"Those muggles shouldn't get away with what they'd done!" Krum snarled insistently.

Charlotte yanked off her sunglasses revealing her single eye which glared at the Champions. "Those muggles are dead! They no longer matter to me, not that they ever did. And in any case, its in the past and you can't undo it. In any case, now the Wizarding world is concerned? How many abused children have there been in other countries? Dozens most likely, but does anyone help in the long term? No. I've learnt something about the whole world in general, muggle and magical.…no-one gives a damn."

She slipped the shades back on, shaking with anger. She wasn't angry with them. She was angry her privacy had just been torn apart, burnt down, and then thrown in the bin to be sent to a landfill site.

"Come on, let's just go. I want to finish this up before we die of old age," she whispered while she struggled to keep her emotions under control before she headed for the Portkey. But as the others reached it and touched it with their own fingers, Charlotte knew, despite her best hopes, she would likely be answering questions and not just from the Champions but from others.

She sighed with relief when the Portkey activated….

XXX

When the pirates cocked their pistols and held up their swords as they arrived Charlotte and the Champions, who were all recovering quickly from the Portkey travel, Charlotte was surprised by what they had to deal with.

_Pirates? I didn't think that was Dumbledore's style. What inspired them to take this course? _

A scream came from above, making the pirates laugh in glee while the Champions looked up one of the masts. To their horror, they saw the hostages they were here to rescue, and they were awake, screaming down from the mast to the Champions.

The last challenge of the Tri-wizard Tournament had begun.


	22. Chapter 22 The End of the Second Task

I don't own Harry Potter, so I make do with Fanfiction.

Anyway, I am sorry it's taken so long to update this story, but I hope the wait was worth it with this latest chapter as I have been concentrating on writing my own original novel and other stories.

Enjoy, and please let me know what you think.

* * *

The Hell of Fourth Year.

"Help!" Charlotte narrowed her eyes when she heard the sound of Granger's voice, but it was quickly followed by the sounds of other voices, two of then were accented, but there was so much noise it was virtually impossible for Charlotte or the other Champions to pick them out properly unless they were really listening.

"Gabrielle!" Fleur screeched, and she moved to try to head up the rigging of the pirate ship to get to her sister, but half a dozen pirates blocked her way, leering at the French witch before she could even climb up.

"Avast there, boys!" An authoritative voice barked, dragging the Champions attention to an enormous, barrel-chested man wearing a tricorn hat with a white embossed skull and crossbones, with a battered peg leg and a parrot who looked like it had seen better days. Sticking out of the pirate captain's belt was an enormous pistol and a cutlass. The face of the pirate was fearsome with the weather-beaten skin lank, greasy locks and the straggly beard, the gleaming ring in his already admittedly damaged ear which looked like it had been gnawed by a wolverine. But the gold teeth gleaming in his mouth, the one eye covered by a patch….

_If I needed any more proof people are so blind when it comes to pirates and highwaymen, who are seen as romantic rogues rather than thieves on horses, I've got it in spades, _Charlotte thought to herself while she looked from one pirate to the next, seeing they looked more like the stereotypical pirates you found in picture books and _Captain Pugwash _cartoons than what was real. They were more jokes than real.

The pirate captain limped over to them, the peg leg stump scraping across the deck as he moved. "Arr, and what d'we 'ave 'ere?" He asked, more to himself than to his own crew.

Charlotte lifted an eyebrow at his voice, which was yet another strike against realism. She had never understood why people had this romantic crappy view of pirates, but being confronted by it now made her feel she was face to face with Robert Newton.

"Looks like we've got boarders, lads," the captain grinned maliciously, sharing a sly look of anticipation with his men. "They be here to take our prize!"

Fleur caught on quickly. "They are not your prize!"

Charlotte mentally shook her head, hoping they weren't doomed although she would never allow the pirates to do anything to them She wanted to grab her own hostage, even if it was Granger, and just end this prolonged Task which had been growing longer and longer than it needed to be by a bunch of people who'd organised the farce to make it more interesting than it needed to be. But what she was worried about the most was how the pirates would react to Fleur. These may not be the realistic types of pirates she had learnt about from more reputable history books rather than the lying, foolish sources when she had conducted her research before she'd arrived at Hogwarts, but they seemed to have been based on the Disney version of _Treasure Island _and other 50s movies.

But they were probably as nasty as real pirates, which meant they had no inhibitions.

The pirates, meanwhile, laughed. "And what're ye goin' ta be doing, lassie?" The captain mocked her.

"It's not her you need to be worried about," Charlotte interjected, noting the position of every pirate as they turned and paid more attention to her.

"And who be you, missy?" The captain chuckled.

"Someone who is really pissed off and just wants to be left alone to do what she likes the most," Charlotte replied.

The pirate captain chuckled again, however, there was no amusement in his voice. "Arrrgh, you're a spitfire, you are," he commented. "Pity ye'll either be clapped in irons, or forced to walk the plank-"

"Oh come on," Charlotte spat derisively. "Where did this stupid myth pirates forced their prisoners to walk the plank come from? It never really happened. It's just a common myth, just like that bollocks highwaymen always swept gooey-eyed girls off of their feet."

Her derisive attack made the pirate captain clench his jaw. "I'm warning ye, missy," the pirate growled, jabbing a long finger her way, "one more word o' your saurce, and I-"

None of the Champions nor the worldwide magical audience would ever know what the pirate captain had in mind for a threat. Charlotte had had enough, and she began by whipping out her wands, aiming them at the deck. Instantly flames shot up, burning through the wooden deck boards. The pirates yelled and screamed in surprise at the suddenness of the flames and they jumped back, but it was more than enough time for the Champions, who were just as surprised to fire their own spells at the pirates.

The pirates, already held back by the flames which were slowly consuming their way through the ship, were yelling in anger and pain as the Champions spells broke through, and injured them. While she was busy going through her own repertoire and using it against the pirates, Charlotte was mentally going over the situation. The flames were spreading everywhere, especially to where the Champions were currently firing one curse after another at the pirates. A while back, Charlotte had visited the old maritime ships on the Thames; the _HMS Belfast _was one of them, but she'd also found a replica of Sir Francis Drake's _Golden Hind, _and the more authentic _Cutty Sark._

She had learnt a fair bit about the old-fashioned sailing ships like there were several flights of stairs leading from the top decks to the lower decks. With that in mind, Charlotte went to Krum, Cedric and Fleur. "We've got to get into the rigging now," she told them, "while they're still occupied. There's likely a staircase somewhere near them, and they can go down and then come back up, on the other side. We have to head up now. Hopefully, we can get up there before they find a way around."

Cedric was looking at the devastated ruins of the deck. The magical flames were burning through the wood, eating it in the same way a cat slowly chewed through meat, splinter by splinter. The flames were so bright, stopping Cedric from seeing through them, making it very very hard for him to see what the pirates were doing. Had they left? Were they moving through their burning wreck of a ship to get to them? "I'll say something about you, Charlotte," he commented as he watched the burning flames. "You certainly know how to make things exciting!"

Charlotte slipped off her sunglasses and showed Cedric her remaining eye. As always the sight of her single eye and the terrible scarring in the closed eye pit made Cedric flinch and pity her. He still blamed himself for what Susan had done, and he knew he always would even if the deranged little bitch had done it herself without any instructions from him.

Frankly, Cedric was surprised it had been Susan and not Cho, who was more high maintenance than Susan. And Cho had been growing more and more annoyed with how Cedric had been defending Charlotte, saying she hadn't put her name into the Goblet. She had blown up at him more than once simply for being gullible. Well, she was certainly eating a Great Hall's worth of Humble pie now following Charlotte's oath following the First Task after she'd torn it to shreds.

Charlotte grinned at him. "Good to know a drop-dead gorgeous guy appreciates it," she flirted back, but her grin dropped. "We have to go. Quick."

With that, they raced towards the rigging. It took time for them to get over the high rail but they managed to find the footholds and they started to climb up the rigging to the top.

XXX

James looked at the mirror in anger. "W-was that boy flirting with my daughter?"

Lily sighed. "And she flirted with him as well, James. In any case, if they are together, what does it have to do with us?"

"But he flirted with her-."

"James," Lily sighed again, wondering how she could make her husband understand. "We haven't seen Charlotte for years, and if you confront her over this Cedric, how do you think she will handle it?"

James paused while his wife's logical question entered his mind. Truth be told, he knew she had a point. In any case, he used the moment to think about everything else. Aside from when she had been a baby, they hadn't had any real presence in Charlotte's life. The thought of what she had gone through, especially with those filthy muggles… James Potter had never been a blood supremacist, not like so many of his pureblood peers, but now he was starting to wonder if people like Voldemort had a point about them.

What had possessed Dumbledore to leave Charlotte there in the first place? They had made it clear that she was not to even know about the Dursleys, they were a disgusting family. Petunia was nothing but a jealous old bitch with delusions of grandeur, and her husband was a fat thug. He had proven it when he had raped Charlotte.

The thought of the filthy muggle daring to touch his daughter made James hope that Vernon Dursley was still around; he would love to teach the muggles their place in the world. The fact he was even thinking of the same thing the Death Eaters would make him ill, but this was his daughter.

But at the same time, he and Lily had gone over everything they had been steadily collecting about Charlotte. Their discovery of how she had _survived the killing curse itself on Halloween when she was supposed to have died three months before, which was the main reason why he and his wife had left the country in the first place _brought up more questions than they would have liked. But there was no doubt in their minds someone had faked Charlotte's death, deliberately engineering that awful night, just for her to be dumped on the step of the Dursleys.

"You're right, Lils," James whispered. "It's just….so hard… I thought, I mean we both thought she was dead. It's just so hard to see her as a teenager. She should never have gone through that hell, especially with that animal!"

Lily closed her eyes, nodding in agreement. "I know. I hate the wizarding world, James. I know it's blunt and harsh of me to say that, but they allowed a war to go on because the combatants were innocent purebloods," she sneered the two words with the contempt they deserved, "I hate the fact they refuse to change. Not only did their war result in the deaths of so many, the so-called Leader of the Light decided to secretly disdain his vaunted titles by abandoning a baby to a family without even bothering to check on her. Their philosophies are going to be their downfall, and I don't know about you, James, but I would be happy to see the entire blood shit torn down. Dumbledore is the worst; he puts so much stock into crackpot prophecies, conveniently forgetting that many of them don't even get fulfilled, and they're just made by cranks. At the same time, he talks about a Greater Good, yet he never says what the Greater Good is. He also has put great stock into the expression _the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. _Believe it or not, I don't have any real problems with that since I know sometimes sacrifices need to be made, but I don't like the fact Dumbledore believes he had the right to decide who will live and who will die. Now he plans to do the same with Charlotte. There's no doubt in my head he has a nasty plan in mind for her. Why else would he manipulate her the way he has? Now that she's grown up, she's forced into this farce; Dumbledore and McGonagall allowed my baby to suffer, and she has lost an eye. If I had my way, those two would be on the floor, bleeding to death. In those books, Charlotte is regarded as a hero, but she is treated worse than scum."

XXX

The climb up the rigging had started slowly at first, everyone wasn't used to climbing up on rope footholds, but they quickly got used to it and now they were moving up to the top of the mast where the hostages were. The group of hostages was aware of them, and they were shouting at them, begging them to get them away from this hell. Periodically Charlotte would look down to see if they were being followed, but luckily the pirate ship was on fire, so they were alright for now.

As she climbed she wondered who these pirates were. There was no doubt in her head they weren't actors, but since the flames from her fire spell had kept them back and shielded them from sight, there was no telling what had happened when the pirates had been hit by their spells.

Charlotte sighed with relief when they reached the top of the rigging and got on the crow's nest. She arrived first, the others not so far behind. Now they were up here, the Champions could see all of the hostages were bound to the mast, begging for help. Charlotte scanned each one just as the other Champions appeared. Granger was there, looking at her with hope, but Charlotte quickly looked further down the line. There was a woman who had a passing resemblance with Krum, so she was probably his mother, and there was Cho Chang, who was looking at Cedric with a smile that made the Hufflepuff Champion look uncomfortable. Charlotte was curious about the inclusion of the Chinese witch; either Dumbledore had worked out that she and Cedric were sleeping together without anyone knowing about it, or so they had assumed.

Or he was purposefully trying to play matchmaker as he had done with her and Weasley. Either way, the old fool was delusional if he thought he could manipulate love, even though both she and Cedric knew what they were having was nothing more than a fling.

But the last hostage worried Charlotte the most. It was one thing knowing that a little girl was involved, but she hadn't expected Fleur's sister to be so young! The little girl was straining against the spells holding her to the mast, looking at her desperately that it broke Charlotte's heart. Once more she felt nothing but rage towards Dumbledore, him and the other bastard organisers of this fucked up Tournament. What the hell had been going through their minds when they had set this up? Oh, she had no doubt Dumbledore hadn't thought it through, especially chaining some poor child to a mast. He had not batted an eyelid whenever Tom Riddle had begged him to not send him back to that filthy muggle orphanage, he had encouraged the students of his own school to bully and harass Miranda Pond until she committed suicide. Oh yes, Charlotte knew about that one.

In comparison, Gabrielle Delacour was nothing.

Speaking of which…

Charlotte sighed and waved her wand, speaking clearly in Latin as she scanned the hostages before anyone could even set them free. In fact, Krum and Fleur had been moving in their direction to do that, but Charlotte's spell which created a neutral white aura around each of the hostages stopped them in their tracks. The spell she was using was not your average scanning spell, it was one of the most powerful and the most thorough spells on Earth. Designed and created by Salazar Slytherin, Helga Hufflepuff, and Rowena Ravenclaw, the spell had been created because there had been many witches and wizards who'd envied the Founders' work at Hogwarts, and for reasons unknown to common sense, they had tried to send spies disguised as students of all things, and they had sent them into Hogwarts to steal as many of the Founders secrets as they could.

Charlotte guessed the story was worse than they'd told her, otherwise they wouldn't have created such a powerful and very thorough spell in the first place. But even now it worked a treat.

The white aura changed to green.

"They're genuine," she sighed with relief.

Fleur was looking at her in confusion, but it was Cho Chang who got there first.

"What are you talking about, Potter?" The Chinese witch sneered.

Charlotte took Cho's attitude with a pinch of salt. "We've gone from one challenge in the Second Task to another. Every time we thought we'd get to you, another problem would come up."

"It has not been fun," Krum said.

Fleur nodded. "Oui," she agreed.

"But you guys are real," Charlotte said with a relieved smile, "and we'd better get you lot out of here."

"How?" The woman who was now freed asked. "Do any of you have a portkey?"

Charlotte frowned and looked at the others. "Do we still have that Portkey?"

Cedric and Viktor checked, but they shook their heads. "No," Cedric shook his head.

Suddenly there was a crack, and Fleur looked down. "They're coming up the rigging!" she yelled.

Charlotte looked down and she wasn't surprised when she saw the pirates climbing the rigging like an army of ants stripping a whole forest to a wasteland. "We need that Portkey, now. Is it anywhere?"

The Champions and the hostages shook their heads and shrugged their shoulders. "I've got nothing," Fleur added grimly while she held onto her sister.

Something suddenly sparked above their heads, and it caught Krum's eye. "What's that?" He pointed.

Charlotte and the others looked up, and they spotted what looked like a jewel that gently gleamed in the light. Hermione, who was closest, gently reached up and pulled it off of the mast and held it out, holding it low for Fleur's sister to touch. As soon as their hands touched the gem, they instantly got hooked into the Portkey vortex….


	23. Chapter 23 Crouch Captured

I don't own Harry Potter, although I definitely own this story and the rest of the Charlotte Potter series I've put up or am planning on uploading. I love writing Harry or femHarry as a thief, someone who thinks and isn't a mindless follower of Dumbledore and co.

Please let me know what you think.

* * *

The Hell of Fourth Year.

The Portkey landed them in the centre of the Quidditch pitch, right in front of the Judges of the Tournament. However, at the time, Charlotte didn't know that for herself.

She was busy recovering from the stomach-churning nausea of Portkey travel. Charlotte gritted her teeth in relief before she opened her remaining eye, thankful that she had taken the advice of the Founders in how to stay on her feet during Portkey travel; when she was staying with the Weasley family, Charlotte had continuously had problems with staying upright whenever she used a Portkey.

It was so embarrassing always crashing to her knees that Charlotte had instantly looked for a way to prevent it happening, but now she was relieved she was able to control herself. The Founders had basically told her she should be keeping her eyes tightly shut when using one, as the brain was disorientated but by using that method and advanced occlumency, she was able to stand up.

As she let herself get her bearings back in a moment, Charlotte looked around for a moment before she spotted the judges of the Tournament

Charlotte was relieved by that because within a moment of landing on the ground, she was able to leap towards Dumbledore in a rage. The orchestra hired to play the cheerful, triumphant ballad had immediately begun playing their instruments as soon as they realised the Champions were there, but as soon as Charlotte rushed towards Dumbledore, her twin custom wands in her hands, ripping away the wands held by the judges and banished a long distance off, followed by the wands carried by their aides, they stopped. They were looking at her in anger but mostly fear.

The crowd gasped in shock when Charlotte punched Dumbledore in the jaw. The old wizard had been taken by surprise when Charlotte has rushed him and how she had essentially taken their wands away, so he was quite unprepared for when the girl punched him in the face again. Dumbledore groaned in agony as he felt the blow, feeling and hearing the sickening crack in his jaw and in his chin as the punch recoiled through his skull. The blow was strong enough to send him to the floor, and it did; he landed on the ground in an undignified heap.

Charlotte looked dispassionately down at him before she took off her sunglasses and looked around the crowd nearby, spotting several people running her way. "Stay precisely where you are," she ordered before she flicked her wand again, and suddenly everyone felt a feeling of dizzying oppression, making them feel as if they were being squeezed in a giant's fist. The people approaching her froze in their tracks.

The Minister's entourage included a few Aurors; the moment the Girl-Who-Lived punched Dumbledore, they instinctively stepped forwards despite losing their wands, and they were strapped for ideas on how to handle this latest incident. But when the girl looked their way, appearing almost demonic, as she glared angrily at them and with her single good eye. She sent the same glare to the audience, her face magnified by the mirrors orbiting the stadium broadcasted her face and her command to the entire wizarding world. Suddenly they felt as if their feet were rooted to the ground before Charlotte turned to send the same glare to the others before she slipped her sunglasses back on, and looked down at Dumbledore before she reached out, and picked him up by the neck, squeezing the thin skin while she lifted the wizard up until his feet were trailing behind him.

Dumbledore gasped and wheezed as he felt the terrifying grip around his throat, and he instantly tried to prise Charlotte's fingers off, but Charlotte was too strong.

She smirked. "You are so weak, it's pathetic," she sneered. "Without your wand, you are useless. The same way I felt when those filthy muggle animals you left me with abused me! No more! You meddle in my life, you expect me to take it. You dictate where I am supposed to live, citing I am not safe, never considering the fact my parents died for me to live, not for some old son of a whore like you to lock me up. And now, you have the nerve to invade my mental privacy! No more, the line must be drawn here, this far, no further! Enough is enough!"

Dumbledore gasped. "I….I only meant to protect you, I didn't know they would do that!"

Charlotte started to laugh, a cold cackle that sent chills down the backs of everyone present. "Liar!"

"No, I mean it-!" Dumbledore wheezed desperately while he looked around, wondering why no-one was stopping this. He had to get free. If he could just get free, let someone distract Charlotte, then he could use the opportunity to use his legilimency skills to rewrite her mind…

"I found the letters, Dumbledore. I found the letters in Arabella Figg's place," Charlotte interrupted.

Dumbledore gaped. He wasn't the only one; in the Hogwarts stands, there were only a few present with any ties to the Order of the Phoenix, however around the country (and in New Zealand), and they knew about Figg.

How had Charlotte found out about her?

Charlotte smiled viciously at them. "I went back to Privet Drive," she said almost conversationally as if this was an amicable lunch setting without her strangling an aged man to death. "I wanted to tie up loose ends by getting rid of the worst of the trauma. You should try it sometime, it's very liberating. You should think of it like…therapy," she suddenly smirked, as if making a joke only she knew the punchline to before her expression hardened, "While I was there, I broke into Arabella Figg's place when I found she was still living there. I'd spent a lot of time at Diagon Alley last year when my bastard godfather escaped, and I spent a lot of time in the pet shop. While I was there I learnt the key differences between cats and Kneazles. When I went back to Privet Drive, I spotted one of her cats, only it had Kneazle characteristics. So I broke into her house while the old bat was out, and when I went in I found out so much. Suddenly, all those contemptuous looks sent my way, all of those times I felt physically ill sniffing and inhaling that awful stench of cabbage made sense.

"Arabella Figg is a member of your Order of the Phoenix, isn't she?" Charlotte's grip on Dumbledore's tightened.

The old wizard didn't reply. He knew the question was rhetorical. In the meantime, he was too busy gasping because of the grip around his throat.

"She's also a squib. That explains why she seemed to hate me so much. Her hatred is identical to that shown by Filch to the students; he is jealous and bitter to everyone because we have magic, he doesn't. Figg is the same. But why was she there on Privet Drive?" Charlotte leaned in closer, lifting Dumbledore higher.

The Champions gasped in horror when they saw the pallor of Dumbledore's face as he was lifted off the ground, but they could not move. At the same time, they wondered where Charlotte was going with this.

"She was there to watch over me. As the only member of the Order who lived in the muggle world full-time, she would have no problem blending in and keeping watch. At the same time, she would write up reports of my….welfare on Privet Drive," Charlotte's voice darkened. "You cast a spell on some of the mirrors of that fucked up house." Rage leaked into Charlotte's voice as her fingers dug into Dumbledore's throat, making him choke. "She _watched every minute of my life unfolding! That insane bitch saw the abuse, and she loved every minute of it; those letters she wrote you, saying I was fine were lies, and you bought them, hook, line, and sinker! She even wrote fucking diaries, and she sent recordings not only to you but to her squib friends, titled _'Finally, a Witch gets what We have to endure!' Do you even know how many of those memories I found when I got through the place? Sixty of them!"

Dumbledore gasped as he tried to struggle against Charlotte's grip, but the girl was just too strong and so he couldn't prise her fingers away from his throat. Inwardly, he was horrified by what Arabella had done. When he had set up the spells and cast them on the mirrors in the Dursley's home, he had wanted to ensure the girl was properly monitored by somebody whom he trusted, someone local, but he had never considered what Arabella would do.

Yes, he was more than aware squibs were bitter towards their magical relatives, and who could blame them? Many squibs born in pureblood families were either heavily mistreated, although he genuinely did not understand why since family was important, and family did not abuse family, not in his mind.

However, he had been horrified when he had discovered Charlotte had been abused by her muggle relatives. The monitors he had placed around the Dursley property had made that clear, and over time he had tried hard to not look at them. In the end, he had disabled them, believing that ignorance was bliss, after all only for it all to go horribly wrong when he discovered Charlotte was gone, and the Dursleys were dead.

But he had never considered the possibility Arabella would be entertained enough by the abuse Charlotte had suffered, not to the point where she would actually be entertained by the girl being abused and would send them to her squib friends.

He could understand their delight from a sick angle, of course, but he had never imagined one of his Order would do such a thing.

What was happening in the world? Dumbledore imagined Charlotte had an excellent reason for what she was doing.

"Got nothing clever to say to me, Dumbledore?" Charlotte went on.

Dumbledore coughed. "I didn't know, but I trusted Arabella to watch over you-."

Charlotte's interruption was brutal. "You can't be serious! You trusted a _squib_, someone without any magical ability, at least outwardly to watch over me? Are you deliberately stupid when you come up with this moronic schemes of yours? What good was she going to do, bash scum like the Death Eaters with a walking stick? Or was she going to call you, so you'd come strutting in like some wizard out of a truly tacky movie, wand blazing so you'd appear like a hero? Think again, buddy; you're not that impressive, even if you are a strutting arrogant son of a bitch! You just wanted someone who could blend in with the crowd; that idiot I met on the street wearing that stupid top hat, the one who shook my hand, didn't seem very bright, and couldn't blend in to save his life. Do you _know_ what the Dursleys did after that bastard who I'm positive is one of your moronic friends or lackeys, or whatever you bloody call them shook my hand? Didn't you bother to tell them not to interact with me, or are you so bone-dead stupid you leave your instructions open to more debate than they should?

"But Figg.… Don't get me wrong; I feel sorry for them for not being able to perform magic, but what Figg did by sending those memories around to her friends for kicks is beyond sick, especially since they could see the irony behind it; a witch who's supposed to be saviour, being beaten and raped by some filthy muggle animal who's the greatest proof to the argument humans are not even a fully evolved, sentient life-form!" Charlotte shook her head at him with disdain written into every pore of her face while her expression was stone cold under her sunglasses. "The people you trust blindly is awesome, isn't it? But do you know what's truly funny, old man; the fact you give them so much latitude about what they can do is shocking and not even keep an eye on them to see what they are doing behind your fucking back. Snape is the perfect example, especially since you've allowed your pet Death Eater to be on an extremely long leash, turning a blind eye to the things he's been doing after he'd likely told you some stupid little sob story no-one normal would ever believe; if it were me, I'd have thrown Snape into a hole and thrown the key into the bottom of my desk where I would keep an eye on him and keep him under control at all times, not give the sad, greasy, pathetic loser free reign with the kids! You only brought him into this school because he told some stupid sob story, but all the time he has a grudge against me 'cause my dad and his stupid friends bullied him, and he can't move on from that. I was abused and raped as a kid, as you've just seen; do you see me hating muggleborns for that. No; he's in his thirties, yet he still acts like a fucking teenager. Go on, grow up you greasy loser.

Charlotte's voice became more scornful. "The bastard is scum, and you have let the fucker get away with weakening the wizarding world, so they can't have Potion Masters and Mistresses, people who are important to society. To the first years, you haven't got a clue," she turned momentarily to face the stands, "not a bloody clue. The Headmaster here does not care about your education. All he cares about is keeping his pet Death Eater happy, and that means making you bad at potions so you don't succeed in life. And he doesn't care who pays the price further down the line. Trust me, I know. If Dumbledore and Snape have their way, none of you will succeed in a key aspect of your magical education."

Dumbledore was cursing Charlotte mentally for that while the crowd gasped in horror, knowing the ICW and so many others were going to hang him for that. Truthfully he wasn't surprised she had revealed that now it had happened, but it was for the Greater Good that Severus had free reign in order to be the spy Dumbledore needed for the next war. Yes, it was inconveniencing the students, but it was a small price to pay for their greater future, and it wasn't as if they wouldn't regain that old potion knowledge, was it?

In the meantime, Charlotte turned back to look down at him with that same cold, blank stare behind her sunglasses. "Did you never think about what you were _doing _when you let that thing teach, or did you just do what you always do; come up with some stupid and badly thought out scheme which would cause more harm than good down the line, and would take years and a lot of patience to make up for!"

The crowd gasped while Dumbledore mentally cursed when he heard them all. He knew while the school were horrified by what they had just learnt, although many of the more dark-orientated students would be aware of that little truth and not care, he knew the revelation would definitely upset many others, especially in the ICW.

The International Confederation of Wizards had not been amused when Voldemort had originally risen to power, especially so quickly. Dumbledore had needed to truly control their response in case Voldemort did something incredibly stupid, but when the trials were over the ICW had truly wanted to get involved with the whole thing to properly punish the Death Eaters. They had learnt a lot from the Grindelwald war, and they were unwilling to allow so much instability and chaos to reign supreme again.

But now after hearing this, the ICW would put a huge amount of pressure on Britain to ensure Severus either left, or he would be arrested and questioned. Dumbledore refused to allow that to happen since the Potions Master knew too much, but he knew his resources were not as they used to be, and with Fawkes's relationship with him virtually dead, Albus couldn't trust the phoenix to ferry Snape away. Not that he would since Severus and Fawkes did not get along, for reasons unknown to Dumbledore.

"That's enough, Miss Potter," Dumbledore closed his eyes when he heard the grating voice of Dolores Umbridge, and he hoped the disgusting and odious woman did not say or do anything truly stupid; not that they could really do anything, with their magic blocked although he wondered how Charlotte had managed to do that. "You will let us go, or you will be arrested, and as you have already, _hem-hem, _used questionable spells, you are already in trouble!"

Dumbledore winced. Did the woman know nothing of the Tournament by-laws? As much as he would like to differ, Dumbledore knew there was absolutely nothing they could do about Charlotte's spells. At the same time, he doubted this woman would make Charlotte frightened of her, and if Dolores was foolish enough to threaten Charlotte, he knew who would come out on top; Charlotte Potter was a very very powerful witch, on a much higher scale than Umbridge. The little toad wouldn't stand a chance.

Why did Umbridge always have to make it easy for herself to be contradicted and made out to be as foolish as possible?

Charlotte turned to Umbridge, sneering inwardly when she took sight of the eye-watering pink clothes, the disgusting toad-like face and the fat body. "Who are you?" She asked without letting go of Dumbledore.

Umbridge puffed out her chest self importantly. "I am Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary for the Minister!" She said pompously with more than a healthy dose of arrogance.

Despite feeling a healthy amount of loathing for the woman the moment she began speaking and spoke with that grating voice reeking of arrogance and pomposity, Charlotte knew what Umbridge was the moment she had begun speaking. A woman with ambitions for power, however, she lacked both the charisma and the magical power to truly achieve power on her own merit, but had not really been able to find any despite searching for it; whenever she got hold of it, the woman would grab it and squeeze it for all it was worth.

She tilted her head so her remaining eye was able to peer out over the rim of her sunglasses. She focused a legilimency probe at the woman, and she instantly felt nothing but disgust for the things this woman was willing to do; she was moonlighting as a woman who went around killing werewolf children, selling muggle-born children into slavery, and she was making a lot of money out of the whole thing.

Charlotte gathered as many details as she could in order to expose this travesty and to make the bitch pay the price, but in the meantime, she would need to deal with her here and now. "I'm happy for you," she said coldly, clamping down on the desire to murder the woman right here; she would deal with Umbridge's illegal activities later, and she would free those kids. And if the Toad got involved… well, accidents did happen. "Stay out of this."

Umbridge gaped at her in amazement, clearly, she was used to people doing what she wanted because of who she was before she laughed a simpering little girl's giggle that made Charlotte and anyone normal flinch. However, for Charlotte, knowing what the odious evil bitch was doing, the sound only made her angrier, especially when she saw the memories of the children who had been begging Umbridge to let them go home, only to be denied.

The urge to kill was rising, and if Umbridge did not shut up, then Charlotte would add another tally to the number of people whom she had offed over the years.

"I beg your pardon, dear? But if you do not stop, then you will be arrested!" Umbridge shouted.

"Silence!" Charlotte's voice snarled loudly, magic laced into the voice until it compelled everyone around her to be silent. "This is a matter of Potter family business. You have no say in my affairs, so stay out. If you interfere, then I will kill you."

Even though he was being suffocated Dumbledore felt his whole body go cold. Had the girl gone so far to the dark she would willingly threaten people if they meddled in her life? Even as he thought that it never occurred to Dumbledore he himself had pushed the girl to that point.

"Now see here, Potter, that is more than enough!" Fudge blustered while he tried to step forward, but the spell holding him in place stopped him. He looked down at his feet, trying to move them but failed. "And I demand you allow us to move!"

Charlotte raised a brow. "No, I don't think I will. You see when your Aurors came close to me, wands raised, I saw them as a threat, and now I have just been threatened for real by your undersecretary; I am not about to let you go simply because you've demanded it. I don't trust you, _Minister," _she spoke the man's title for all the respect she felt it was worth. "You did, after all, allow a few hundred Dementors to come to the school last year, and you did send an innocent to Azkaban based on an accusation from fifty years before. You didn't even bother to investigate the Chamber of Secrets or the attacks on muggleborns; you only wanted the simplest solution, believing if Hagrid was locked up it would all stop, saying the Ministry had to be seen doing something, but you just wanted a quick and simple solution because you're too lazy to call in the professionals, if they can be called that, to do a decent investigation. Well, lo and behold… it didn't work, did it?"

"How dare you besmirch the name of Cornelius Fudge, you filthy jumped up Half-Blood!" Umbridge shouted while the gasps from the crowd went on as Charlotte described what Fudge had done in his tenure. Dumbledore, McGonagall, and many of the staff of Hogwarts cringed. Indeed, Hermione, the only hostage chosen for the Second Task, who truly knew Charlotte well enough, swallowed in reflex.

"You stupid bitch!" Hermione whispered.

However, she hadn't kept her voice as low as she probably should.

"What do you mean?" Fleur asked the brunette.

"That idiot! Charlotte is not going to let her get away with that," Hermione shook her head, wishing she could step back, but she couldn't.

"What do you mean?" Cedric asked.

"If there is one thing guaranteed to really piss Charlotte off, it's talking about blood status and blood supremacy; her parents were murdered because of that ideology, and considering just how far she has been pushed, in her current state, she's likely to explode like a nuclear bomb!"

Cedric and none of the magical's listening knew what a nuclear bomb was, but Hermione's very real fear of Charlotte's mood and what they had seen her do today made them worried a lot.

Charlotte's voice was as cold as ice. "I think you'll find my blood status means zilch to me."

Umbridge's podgy face purpled. "Let us go! I demand you let us go! I will make sure you are arrested!"

"With that, you are only making me more certain in my decision to freeze you was a wise one, and don't try to break it; you will never be strong enough to defy me to my face. And besides…. After what your Aurors tried to do, interfering in my affairs, you are in no position to make demands. You clearly aren't smart, are you? And as for your statement about me being arrested….What for? You clearly haven't read up on the bylaws of the Tournament; no Champion can be arrested for anything, so you can't truly threaten me. In any case, what I am doing is justified. This old fool has meddled in my life, invaded my privacy, and I am going to make him pay, and if you get in the way… well, let's just say you will not live long enough for it to make any difference," Charlotte's voice was as cold as ice before she looked down at Dumbledore. She glared viciously down at him before she kicked him, hard, in the chest. "Stay away from me!" She warned over Dumbledore's wheezes, and she wondered for a moment if she had broken something. "Don't ever meddle in my life again, because if I find something happening I don't like, then I will come for you, and you will regret the day you ever dumped me on that fucking doorstep. This is your final warning; next time, I will kill you. I will crush you to the size of a doll, and mount your remains on a wall so I can show the next manipulative bastard to cross my path what it will cost them."

XXX

He had never imagined he would have similarities to not one, but two other immensely powerful magicians. And yet, the proof had come in the task that he was not alone. When Barty Crouch Junior discovered his master's origins and his true backstory, he had been shocked, yes. But at the same time, he hadn't cared. Crouch was not stupid; he knew many of his master's policies and his actions during the First War went against everything he was preaching. Pureblood families were being targeted, many of them had been lost in vicious attacks, decimating their lines until they were either crippled, weakened, or wiped out from existence.

It had been a surprise to discover the Dark Lord genuinely did not care at all about the blood supremacy philosophy. Indeed, neither did Junior himself, but for both of them, the prospect of lashing out at the unfair, cruelties of the world was more exciting. Yes, the Dark Lord preached the pureblood's would reign supreme, but Crouch had his doubts about that. It didn't matter.

And now he was witnessing yet another magical, a witch this time; she might be young, but she was incredibly powerful, resourceful and resilient, and he wondered to himself if she would have been this terrifyingly arousing if she hadn't lost her eye. Crouch still felt disappointed he had failed his master's orders, to make sure Charlotte Potter was unharmed enough to survive the Tournament, but his master didn't care; in fact, his master had been delighted she had been maimed, and he said the girl was finally getting some perspective on how he himself felt.

But now…

While Crouch had some issue with the girl lashing out like this, and in public (he had begun thinking of the girl as much smarter than that) and he wondered if she was still more of a Gryffindor with how freely she was attacking Dumbledore and Umbridge, even if personally he didn't care about either of them, he had to admit she had style and balls.

Not only had she attacked a Ministry official, but she had also assaulted Dumbledore, threatening to kill him should the old wizard even think of meddling in her life again.

But Crouch Junior had never expected Charlotte Potter, the Girl Who Lived, to have been abused. Yes, his own father may have abused him mentally over the years, but never something that sick.

Especially by muggles!

Crouch Junior may not entirely share his master's hatred for muggles to the same degree even if he personally saw them as savages, but seeing that he felt nothing but disgust for them. And yet he had stood still in his crippled, assumed form (how the hell Mad-Eye had coped with so many injuries, he had no idea), and he had been lost in his shock and in his thoughts. And he had quickly realised two very important details.

Dumbledore was a fool.

Oh, he had known that anyway, but this was taking the piss even by his standards. Didn't the old fool realise what he had done? There were millions of witches and wizards out there who hated muggles, believing them to be savage and cruel animals. People like Dumbledore kept claiming they were misunderstood, but now he had given them the perfect proof on a platter.

Sure, once they got over their shock a supposed celebrity of the British magical community was abused sexually and physically by the muggles Dumbledore had dumped her on, they were going to put pressure on the Ministry, and they were going to use the Girl Who Lived as a martyr. She would become the poster child of various anti-muggle slogans around the world; all they would need to do was to show that kind of memory to their new recruits, talk about how muggles were animals that needed to be wiped out, and then they would likely start massacring muggles in the girl's name.

Talk about irony. Charlotte Potter was seen as a Light icon, she wasn't meant to be used as a recruitment poster for ant-muggle rhetoric.

Crouch wondered how the girl would take that, but he found himself not caring. However, if he was willing to guess the girl was not going to be happy, especially since people like those groups had been responsible for the death of her parents. She wouldn't want any of that to reflect on her.

Second, he was convinced the girl had murdered her own relatives. It was the only thing that made sense; they had died, and she had survived. And those memories showcasing her abuse, her clear capacities for violence, and the way she went to so much trouble to win…. How else could she have gotten out?

It was a thousand to one chance some muggle criminal would have broken in, killed the muggles living in the house, and just happened to set her free. In fact, it was virtually impossible.

No, Potter must have killed them. She had the means and the motive to do it. He would certainly have murdered his own father and escaped had the bastard touched him and his mother.

At that moment, the timing charm he had placed to vibrate against the flask began to go off. He had placed the charm on the flask to remind him when it was time to take the next dose of Polyjuice potion. Crouch sighed, preparing himself for the awful taste to come. As he pulled out the flask from his pocket, he held back the urge to sigh when he heard McGonagall snap from nearby.

"Honestly, Alastor," the old witch snapped angrily, although he could hear clearly from the way her voice shook she was terrified. "Must you drink that now?"

He ignored her. He opened the top of the flask.

XXX

Charlotte knew she had gone too far. Not only had she attacked Dumbledore and the rest of the judge and the Champions, locking them in place with a blast of magical compulsion, but she had threatened a powerful Ministry official, and she knew even if she had the Tournament by-laws on her side, Umbridge was not going to tolerate it.

The woman, from what Charlotte had read in the woman's depraved excuse for a mind, did not like being humiliated and her M.O for handling things like that was to retaliate as quietly and as painfully as possible. However, Charlotte knew how to hit her where it hurt even more, and she had every intention of making the woman really really pay.

Fudge wasn't going to be a problem. The man would bluster around, and Malfoy senior would whisper in his ear, but Charlotte was positive the elder Malfoy would use his brains and urge Fudge not to make some stupid mistake. However, if she went for Umbridge soon, destroying her career quickly, Malfoy would do his best to make Fudge keep his head down.

Malfoy may have been a slimy bastard, but he wasn't completely stupid, even if his ideas two years back left much to be desired. In fact, in terms of genius-level intellect, between Fudge and him, Charlotte would choose Malfoy every single time.

She was just about to beat the living shit out of Dumbledore, with the mind to tell him no-one hated the Dursleys more than she did, but they had taught her a great deal, especially when it came to inflicting pain. And she was also thinking about projecting some more of the abusive memories to the world; after all, they'd seen one of the most humiliating memories of her childhood, what was a few more?

And then she smelt something. Charlotte closed her eye and sniffed deeply, letting her inner cat come out for a second while she sniffed, turning her head and walking away from Dumbledore. She turned away from Umbridge and Fudge, sniffing deeply. She could smell something, something familiar.

"Potter, get back here, you filthy Halfblood!" Umbridge shouted, but Charlotte ignored her.

That didn't sit well with Umbridge; she reached out and grabbed on to Charlotte.

Charlotte snapped out of her search for the source of the smell, and she punched Umbridge in the gut. The blow made Umbridge wheeze and double up, but Charlotte paid little attention and she resumed her search. She sniffed deeply, letting her inner cat get hold of the smell, and she started moving closer and closer to the source while she tried to identify it.

Everyone was meanwhile wondering what Charlotte was doing, but the girl ignored the calls from others while she tried to identify the smell; she definitely knew it was some kind of potion, and one she knew. She ran the smell through every potion she had inhaled over the years, using her occlumency skill to help her sort through it; she knew it was nothing from her first year, but in her second….

Wait…

Second-year.

Charlotte stilled for a second, her mind going back to the time where she, Granger, and Weasley had used Polyjuice potion to infiltrate the Slytherin common room. Charlotte recalled the event quite well. Weasley had suspected Malfoy as the Heir of Slytherin. In Charlotte's mind, Malfoy was not the candidate who sprang to mind. Draco was a parrot, a loud-mouthed little braggart who opened his mouth and spilt all of his plans, which made it incredibly simple for anyone to outsmart him, and he was ignorant about what was going on, even when it was too late. Unfortunately, Granger had been convinced and so she had overruled Charlotte's objections, so she had made the Polyjuice potion. Weasley had gone as Crabbe while Charlotte had gone, reluctantly, as Pansy Parkinson.

Contrary to Weasley, Charlotte knew that Malfoy and his cronies occupied a small but powerful minority in Slytherin. The rest of the House either ignored or disdained them. She had known if she had gone as Tracey Davis, or Daphne Greengrass, then Malfoy wouldn't have said a word. Charlotte remembered being disgusted by Weasley's lack of intellect or common sense when they had gone to speak to Malfoy, and as much as it disgusted her pretending to be Pansy, simpering around Malfoy, Charlotte hadn't been in the least bit surprised when Malfoy knew nothing about the Heir like anyone else.

But of course, no-one had listened to her beforehand. A whole month, gone… the Polyjuice had been nothing but a waste of time, however, she had smelt it, and it was a godsend now.

Hermione couldn't come to the Slytherin common room. She had made the mistake of taking a cat hair off of Millicent Bulstrode's robes, and she had become a human/cat hybrid for a brief time. But if there was one thing she had learnt in that year, it was the strength of the smell of Polyjuice potion. While it had rung a distant bell with her this time around, her new animagus form's sense of smell was much greater than her human sense of smell. But what surprised her was that Professor McGonagall who was right there, and also had a cat form animagus, hadn't smelt it. She hypothesised that the two processes for the transformation they had used were so different, McGonagall only had the tip of the iceberg of her abilities as a cat. Whereas she had gone to the masters of animagus transformation; the African wizarding community were closer to animals than their European contemporaries, and they had delved deeply into the art of transformation, even further than anyone else, and their knowledge was on par with Native American Indian knowledge.

Charlotte sniffed deeper again, stepping closer to the source of the smell, and then she paused when she saw Mad-Eye Moody with his flask open. The former Auror had his attention focused completely on the flask, and he hadn't noticed her attention on the flask she sniffed again, knowing the source was right in front of her. She took out a wand, and she tapped the end on her head, silently going invisible. She also cast a silencing spell on her feet, while she ignored the calls from the crowd, all of them asking what was going on down there in the pitch, and she ran towards the former Auror, coming to a stop and then inhaling the smell from the flask just as he was lifting it up to drink.

Charlotte exploded into action; she kicked Moody in the face, knocking him backwards and punching him in the gut before she grabbed the flask. She tapped her head with her wand and became visible again. She held up the flask and tipped it slightly, seeing from the polished screens of the mirrors there were close-ups of what was happening just as she flicked her wand at Moody, and he was bound up in extremely large and thick chains. The man gasped under the weight of the metal, but it performed the task very well; not only was he weighed down by the chains and the metal, but there was also no chance in hell of him being able to wriggle his way out being bound so tightly. Once she was sure he was tied down, Charlotte poured some of the potion out onto the short grass of the Quidditch pitch.

"Polyjuice Potion," Charlotte lifted her wand to her mouth, and her voice boomed out over the stadium while she poured some of the thick potion onto the ground. "And since it requires hourly doses, I think we'll find out your real identity soon enough, won't we?"

Moody, or rather the wizard impersonating Moody, glared up at her. He even spat at Charlotte, but the girl just laughed.

"Oh please, if you're going to be one of those types who won't talk even when they're cornered, let me tell you that you will be talking soon enough. It's just a question of whether or not I will torture you to get what I want. Oh, look," Charlotte added, grinning. "I think we'll be seeing who you are very quickly.."

'Moody' was disappearing, his grizzled, wiry grey hair was lightening up slightly to a straw colour. The scars gradually faded, until it left comparatively smoother skin, and the chunk of nose that was missing from Moody's face was replaced with a full nose. The false eye popped out, replaced with a complete flesh and blood eye (Charlotte bit back the urge to curse; it was certain this man had something to do with her placement in this disaster, and like her, he had had to deal with an appearance that left him with just one eye, but it could be rectified every hour). Similarly, Moody's false peg leg popped out when it was replaced by a complete leg.

When the transformation was finished, Charlotte listened to the gasps around her.

"Barty Crouch Junior?"

"I thought he was dead!"

"He's been disguised as Mad-Eye all this time?"

Charlotte meanwhile turned to Barty Crouch Senior, seeing the man pale as he looked down at the bound body of his son. "Your son, I presume, Mr Crouch? I hope you are going to provide an explanation, for your sake. If you don't cooperate, well, let me tell you that its really going to be extremely painful, for you."

"You don't need to threaten him, Charlotte," Dumbledore's voice was full of pain from the small beating he had been given by Charlotte, but his voice was still powerful enough to be heard.

"I beg to differ if I need answers. I am tired of being bullshitted by bastards like you; that comes hard for a survivor to someone pulling the strings," Charlotte countered before she looked down at Crouch Jr. "Why did you put my name in the Goblet of Fire?"

Crouch Jr spat at her again, sneering. He let out a muffled cry before he groaned in pain when Charlotte kicked him in the face.

"Don't ever do that again, not when I'm holding onto the cards," Charlotte sighed. "Why are people in this fucking community stupid?" She asked herself. "Dobby!"

The House-elf appeared, looking around startled, and he was even more startled when he caught sight of Crouch Jr chained on the ground, but he snapped to attention when he looked at his mistress. "Missy Char called Dobby?"

Charlotte smiled kindly at the elf. "Dobby, I want you to break into Professor Snape's potion stores."

"Your elf will do no such thing, Potter!" Fudge yelled while Umbridge recovered from the punch she'd just received.

"Ignore the idiot, Dobby; he's an imbecile who is forever out of his depth," Charlotte countered firmly. "Find the truth potion called Veritaserum, and bring it here, please. And if any of the spells in the place cause you problems, demolish the entire place if you need to. That potion is your number one priority for now. I think this man put me in this tournament, and I want to find out why."

"Dobby can do, Missy Char," Dobby nodded eagerly, but before he could pop away, Charlotte quickly leaned forward and whispered something to the House elf. The moment she pulled away, Dobby's perky demeanour had vanished, leaving him morose and solemn. But he vanished and returned with the potion before he departed again.

Charlotte lifted up the bottle and walked to Crouch Jr. "Please tell me you're one of those people who will refuse to cooperate if asked to open your mouth for truth potion to be shoved down your throat?" She said as she unstoppered the bottle while she tried to recall just how many drops were needed for this particular type of potion; was it four, or was it three?

Crouch Jr kept his mouth shut, making Charlotte smirk down at him. "I was hoping for that," she replied, lifting her wand after putting the phial in one hand.

"Potter! You will turn that Death Eater over to us for proper interrogation. You don't have permission to use that potion! You can't do it here-!" Fudge shouted, but Charlotte ignored him. She just lifted her wand, and she fired a spell at Jr's leg.

The spell impacted Crouch's leg, and there was a sickening cracking sound, and even through the chains, it looked like the leg had just been twisted. Crouch opened his mouth, gasping in agony before the sudden pain bubbled through his throat. He began to scream in agony before Charlotte took the opportunity to pour the potion down his throat - she might have exceeded the dose, but she didn't care. She was going to get answers, and if the bastard didn't like it, too bad. At the same time, she cast a numbing charm on the leg; she wanted the answers to be clear, concise, and emotionless.

When she saw clearly that Crouch's eyes were glazed, Charlotte began speaking. "Why did you put my name in the Goblet of Fire?" She asked, certain it was him.

"My Master ordered me to put your name into the Goblet," Crouch's voice was calm and controlled.

Charlotte spared Umbridge and Fudge a look for a moment. "Who is your Master? What does he call himself?"

"Lord Voldemort."

The crowd shrieked and screamed with terror and denial, but Charlotte put a stop to that. She whipped off her sunglasses and glared at the mirrors. "SILENCE!"

The crowd went silent instantly.

"You will be silent during this interrogation," Charlotte looked back down at Crouch without slipping the sunglasses back over her face, and she glared down at Crouch Jr with her one good eye. "Voldemort is alive. Why did he want me in the Tournament?"

"He wants your blood to resurrect him in a ritual and to restore him to full strength." Even through the potion, it was clear Crouch was fighting to keep his mouth shut.

"Mm," Charlotte gazed at him thoughtfully for a moment, making plans and counter plans to deal with this situation. "Now, tell me… is there such a thing as an innocent Death Eater? We have been hearing stories of Death Eaters being placed under the Imperius curse, and they're innocent. Is that true?"

"Now, Charlotte, there's no need for you to ask that-," Dumbledore tried to say, but he couldn't since whatever form of magic she had used to stop everyone speaking had affected him as well.

But it was too late. "No, it is not true. All of the Death Eaters serving the Dark Lord do so willingly; the ones whom he blackmails are pushed into committing dark deeds using a simple tattoo the Dark Lord burns into their skin, allowing him to pour suggestions into their minds. When the process is completed, they become willing Death Eaters," Crouch explained.

"Ah, I see. How interesting," Charlotte muttered, her mind going over the explanation. In her mind, it would make perfect sense, and it seemed like the most efficient way of making people the perfect pawns for Voldemort and his agenda. "So, two questions for you, Crouch; people like Malfoy and the others… they did it all willingly? Would they be willing to do it again? Reply to both questions, please."

"Yes," Crouch's reply seemed to sound the death knell for many.

Charlotte smiled triumphantly. "Who was my parents' secret keeper."

"Peter Pettigrew."

If Charlotte hadn't ensured silence, everyone would be gasping. But they watched and listened silently, frozen in their bodies.

"What did the Death Eaters do?" She asked.

She had no intention of letting the Death Eaters get away with the crimes anymore. She had their ultimate punishment well in hand, but that would need to wait until she could get to Voldemort himself. But if she was somehow able to twist the public against the Death Eaters….

"We killed civilians on raids, raped and tortured muggles, especially girls and young children. We used all the Unforgivable curses on muggles as well as wizards. We kidnapped pureblood girls to use as leverage against certain opponents so they would be brought around to our way of thinking. The girls themselves would be married off to eligible Death Eaters, who would breed them into providing future recruits to the Dark Lord's cause. We also ran slavery rings, bringing in muggle children and forcing them to work for us," Crouch replied.

Charlotte resisted with great force of will not to use the Tissue Compression Elimination curse on Crouch as the images jumped into her mind; muggle children, frightened and forced to work under the jeers of the Death Eaters as they were cursed. Pureblood girls, whom Voldemort and his bastard followers, were championing, forced to be nothing more than broodmares… "And no one can be forced to take the Dark Mark?" She added to clarify her points.

"No, you need to prove yourself to the Dark Lord. You need to torture and kill a prisoner to be worthy of the Mark," Crouch revealed.

"Dumbledore likes to think you and others like you can be redeemed, what do you think about that?" Charlotte's voice was pure evil as she turned her head sideways to look at the old wizard in question; Hermione wished she could see the other girls' remaining eye, but she was willing to bet the look there was malicious.

It should have been impossible for Crouch to smile, or laugh, but somehow he managed to sound amused. "Dumbledore is a sentimental fool, who many of the others take advantage of. We give him some sob story, and the senile old fool believes us without any question. He is so easy to fool. We have no regrets about the fun we cause."

Charlotte turned and saw many people look sick and furious at what the Death Eater had revealed. But she had one more question to ask. "Would you do it all over again if given the opportunity?"

"Yes," Crouch replied.

Charlotte nodded and she walked back to Fudge and Dumbledore, and she waved her wand at them, and in the general direction of the crowd.

"That thing," she pointed at Crouch's still bound body, "is scum. You've just heard him reveal he wouldn't feel sorry for repeating his actions, and you've heard him admit to what the Death Eaters are doing, and what they think about your attempt to rehabilitate them, Dumbledore. I think its time for you to take a step back, and let real law enforcement people who are better qualified do the job sort the scum out instead of you interfering and causing more damage further down the line."

She turned to Madam Bones. She took off her sunglasses and stared at the woman who had at one time been a valued ally of her family. "You can take him to the Ministry," she said, not really caring anymore about what would happen to Jr now. "Wring him dry if you like, and this time think about the cost of keeping someone like him alive. He will just do it all over about if he gets out, so keep that in mind."

Charlotte looked around the stadium. "You can move now," she said simply, and she turned around and walked off, tapping her head again so she would become invisible while pandemonium exploded behind her. Charlotte knew she had just dropped the wrecking ball on so many illusions, but truthfully she didn't care. It was time the Wizarding world woke up to reality.


	24. Chapter 24 Two Brothers

II don't own Harry Potter, anyway, you get the idea.

Sorry for the wait - I hope I can upload more chapters soon. Anyway, please enjoy.

I picture Aberforth Dumbledore to resemble David Troughton, the son of Patrick Troughton who had played the Second Doctor off of Doctor Who, who played the villain Ricky Hanson from New Tricks who murdered Jack Halford's wife. His appearance in that is virtually how I picture Aberforth in this story.

* * *

The Hell of Fourth Year.

The moment she walked into the Founder's chamber, Charlotte knew she should have changed her plans, but she decided to get this over and done with now.

All of the Founders are looking at her with extremely displeased expressions on their faces. "For a girl who is smart, you have made a grave mistake, Charlotte," Ravenclaw declared.

Charlotte sighed.

"Where's the cunning I thought you possessed, because it isn't cunning to reveal your spells, nor is it cunning to threaten important politicians and beat one almost to death in broad daylight, watched by millions!" Slytherin snapped.

Charlotte held back the urge to roll her eye. Why did these people even think she cared? In any case, she had thought they had accepted the fact she was a mixture of all of their philosophies.

But no. It was as clear as day they were still locked in their pathetic narrow little mindsets. Charlotte was beginning to wish she had summoned Dobby back (not Winky, especially since the unfortunate House elf likely had enough on her plate right about now) so she could just return back to the windmill so she could just rest, but she had been too tired to make the trip, so she had come here.

Fuck, she was beginning to regret her decision. On top of that, Charlotte was beginning to see, since she was still at Hogwarts, it wouldn't be impossible to accidentally run into someone.

After spending all day dealing with the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament, being humiliated and being forced to reveal some of the special spells she had worked _long and hard _to hide, to say nothing of having to deal with the unexpected discovery of the Death Eater who'd put her name into the Goblet of Fire, all Charlotte wanted to do was to go home, have a quick chat with Winky about Crouch, and just go to bed and sleep.

Charlotte knew Dobby had likely already informed the female House elf, and Charlotte hoped and prayed they could help Winky through it; the female House elf had had a gut full this year, a gut full. Winky had been kicked out of the only family she'd ever had, which had earned Barty Crouch senior nothing but Charlotte's eternal contempt before she had even discovered his son was the one who had put her name into the Goblet of Fire, and now this.

Except she was too tired to make the trip.

She had been functioning on her reserves during the Task, and when she had gone for Dumbledore she had used the last of her energy, and she had immediately used a portal to return to the Founder's Chamber so she could rest, gather her energy for the return trip to the windmill, and then she could sleep.

In hindsight, she should have expected this. All of the Founders seemed to be determined to shape her according to their own individual philosophies, and it was really starting to grate on her nerves. She had spent a decade being abused by two abusive families where she had been treated like a servant or being near brainwashed with how she should be grateful, shit like that, only for her to wipe them both out slowly and painfully before she had become a thief in London itself. Her experiences had shaped her, twisted her into a hardened criminal.

Okay, she could understand the Founder's aims, really, she did. However, Charlotte believed she knew when it was time to be bold, brash and hardheaded, but at the same time she could be calm and use her problem-solving skills to their best degree, and she could use her cunning and sharpened mind to help her see possibilities where others wouldn't. She wasn't arrogant enough to believe she was better than the Founders, but she did refuse to fit into their shoes. It wasn't her nature and in any case after watching those memories play in the Second Task, to say nothing of knowing the_ entire magical world _had seen them, and unmasking the piece of shit who'd put her into the Tournament in the first place, ruining her plans for leaving the magical world after she had kept her head down for a number of years before she completed the con she'd been playing from the day she had walked into Hogwarts.

Her plan had been so simple, then; keep her head down, do the barest minimum while secretly preparing for her OWLs and her NEWTs, wait until her fifth year and then leave this miserable country once and for all. And if she had to deal with Voldemort during that time, well she would find a way of dealing with the snake-faced pig.

It had been a simple plan and she had gone to huge amounts of trouble putting it into the competition; keeping her head down, putting up with Granger and Weasley and how they were spying on her so thoroughly Dumbledore knew what she was eating for breakfast, lunch and dinner, not bothering much with her studies officially when in fact the teachers didn't bother her much since she was interested only in herself, and she considered the teacher's views of her to be irrelevant. She didn't care if they thought she was lazy and stupid, or arrogant supposedly like James Potter. No, all she wanted was to secretly study magic when she realised Dumbledore would be watching over her after ensuring she had spent her life with the Dursleys, and even then was trying to find suitable people to look after her, and didn't have her best interests at heart.

However, she had underestimated Dumbledore and his schemes.

She hadn't expected the announcement of something which could cause a painful death, nor had she expected to be drawn into the Philosopher's Stone mess. But after the year was up and she had been taken in by one of Dumbledore's stooges, Charlotte had come to the realisation she would need to address the plan to keep herself fully protected by keeping watch on Weasley and Granger.

But now the plan was dead.

"Oh, I thought through that attack _very carefully, _thanks Salazar," Charlotte interrupted Slytherin. "You didn't notice what I did, did you? You just focused on how I did it, right?"

"What…do you mean?" Gryffindor whispered.

"When I went for Dumbledore, I was furious he had been part of the Task where the Champions' mind would be dredged for the worst moments of their past; not only was my own privacy invaded, but the others would likely have suffered the same fate. I couldn't have that. Yes, I went into a rage against him, but at the same time I saw an opportunity to accuse Dumbledore of what had happened in Little Whinging," Charlotte explained. "You saw his reaction to the accusations against Figg, a member of his precious saintly Order. But at the same time, I mentioned Snape and how his actions had caused problems for Britain. Few Aurors, Healers. If we're lucky, the authorities will pull their finger out. And by authorities, I am talking about the ICW. I've done a lot of digging over the years. The fact Snape has been depriving the wizarding world in this country of so many important people would bring down all kinds of people from the Ministry on top of Hogwarts, but the ICW will have no choice but to come to this country and sort it out."

Charlotte paused for a second so she could take in the reactions of the gobsmacked Founders and she grinned at their expressions, although Ravenclaw and Slytherin both looked like they were working everything out; Ravenclaw looked like she was taking in everything she had just said, and was currently weighing up the pros and the cons, and the potential consequences of Charlotte's actions, although the teenager didn't really give a tinker's toss how the Wizarding world took it.

Slytherin, on the other hand….

The Founder of the so-called "darkest house" looked like he was grinning while holding back the urge to burst out sobbing out of pride.

"You're taking a big risk, Charlotte," Gryffindor seemed less content, indeed he didn't look happy for some reason Charlotte couldn't bring herself to care about although if she had to guess, she'd say it was because of her actions during the Task, and the way she had handled the aftermath.

"Oh, how? I think the Ministry have their hands full."

"She's right, Godric," Ravenclaw turned to her fellow Founder. "Not only has Charlotte revealed Dumbledore's actions, but she has also revealed not only to the school but the whole of magical Britain what the long term effects of Snape remaining in the castle will have. No Aurors. No Healers. The country needs them, regardless of whether or not Fudge or his idiot cohorts believe someone like Voldemort is out there or not. Voldemort's death was only an excuse; potions are vital for the magical world; they can do things spells cannot. Not only that, but the ICW would likely have no other choice but to intervene, just to clean up the mess."

"I just don't understand why Dumbledore would care to do what was easy instead of what was right. That thing that occupies the Potion Master's role has ruthlessly exploited all of Dumbledore's second, third, fourth, and fifth chances time and time again. Yes, he might be one of Dumbledore's spies, but surely he knew what Snape would do if he took over," Hufflepuff shook her head.

"I stopped trying to guess what Dumbledore's plans entailed in the long-term," Charlotte shook her head, inwardly hoping somebody else tried to deal with the problem so she didn't submit herself into a mental hospital to get herself checked out. "But I did a lot of damage; thanks to Crouch, everyone knows now the Death Eaters are not the hopeless innocents' Dumbledore and Fudge like them to believe. And on top of that, I looked into the mind of Dolores Umbridge."

"What did you find?" Slytherin asked intrigued.

"Umbridge," Charlotte spat the name out in disgust, "runs a prostitution/slavery ring for muggle children. She has even captured a number of muggle-born kids, forcing them into brothels. She also has werewolf and vampire children murdered simply because they are different. Her prejudice clouds her judgement, but her arrogance has given me the ammunition needed to bring her down."

"What are you going to do?" Hufflepuff asked, curiously.

Charlotte smirked viciously (she had no idea she was pleasing Salazar Slytherin with her smirk, and how vicious it was; a part of him, the part which he had thought was long since gone, wished he was a teenage boy so then he could ravish her for her bloodthirsty attitude), "What I always do. I'm going to make her pay."

XXX

It was getting late at the Hog's Head, and the last patrons had either left or they had been banished out of the pub so then the proprietor could clean the place up. As he cleaned up, Aberforth Dumbledore happened to catch sight of a reflection of himself in the window, lit up with the flickering candlelight and the runic crystals adding more magical light in the pub.

As he stared at himself Aberforth could say he barely recognised himself as he stared at his own reflection. It had been a very long time since he had seen himself as he had been when he had been without hair around his mouth; he had started to grow his beard, like all Dumbledore men, which was a family tradition, at the age of twenty, and his hair had grown out naturally at around the same time.

He hardly recognised himself at all. After the Second Task where he and everyone else had seen and heard about Albus Dumbledore's sins, Aberforth had gone to the bathroom. A part of Aberforth knew he had a passing resemblance to his brother, but while some, especially those who knew of his history with his brother, would say he was trying to emulate Albus out of some kind of need to better himself. It was nothing like that.

No, Aberforth had grown his beard and let his hair grow out because he wanted to resemble a Dumbledore. If he had wanted to resemble his brother, then he wouldn't have been apathetic to his own appearance. He would have taken better care of his robes, instead of wanting to fit in with the crowd. He would have taken care of his beard, and his hair, keeping them from getting too greasy for the same reason.

In any case, Aberforth had sometimes considered removing the beard despite being proud of his Dumbledore heritage just so then he could stop resembling Albus.

And now, thanks to Charlotte Potter, he had chosen the right time to do it.

Aberforth closed his eyes, feeling nothing but sympathy for the young girl who had suffered a great deal at the hands of two men, one of whom happened to be Aberforth's own brother, much to his own shame. But that was Albus in a nutshell for you. Unlike Voldemort, who was as subtle as a charging Hippogriff, Albus cheated, lied, and he stole from everyone he encountered by putting on a charming smile, speaking a few manipulative words so he could cloud their reality so they handed over whatever he wanted on a plate.

All for the sake of his own personal quest for self-recognition. Albus had longed to be famous, to be revered at the same level as Merlin, of the Founders of Hogwarts, ever since the day he was old enough to understand such things. And he had dedicated his life to achieving his aims, and he had largely succeeded although right now Aberforth wondered if he would last long, especially since so many of his dirty secrets had gotten out. There was no way the ICW would let many of the accusations stand. They would begin a massive investigation into Albus's dodgiest dealings, although Aberforth prayed his silver-tongued brother didn't get away with what he had done, although he hoped they dug up enough to make his aims virtually impossible to meet.

Ever since the full horror of what was happening at Hogwarts with the Fourth Champion of the Triwizard Tournament, something which should never have happened, and how she had been maimed by someone who should have been one of her biggest allies, not an enemy, Albus had been brutally hemmed in and people were already scrutinising his actions at Hogwarts. Abertforth hoped the magical world discovered that, despite his brilliance (even he could say his brother was a brilliant, powerful wizard despite how much disgust he had for him), Albus was absolutely useless when it came to the big matters.

Aberforth sighed as he studied his features. Whereas before he had had a thinning head of silvery grey hair and was sporting a similarly coloured beard, he was a bald man now, with sunken eyes and a clean-shaven, albeit aged face which appeared vaguely thuggish. Personally, Aberforth was not really certain how to take such a description of his features, it had already stunned many of his customers, but once he'd given them proof of who he was, they'd accepted him. But he was still uncertain about what he now resembled. Personally, Aberforth liked to look at himself and see himself as an aged tortoise, with his bald, wrinkled face, his sunken cheeks and his prominent nose highlighted by his aged appearance.

Yes, seeing himself like an aged tortoise rather than a thug was better.

Aberforth looked away from his reflection, flicking his wand and silently clearing up the mess around his pub. With each wave of his wand, the signs of the pub fights and duels which had gone on, the puddles of spilt Firewhiskey bathed in the smashed remains of their bottles, the grime on the tables and the melted candle wax on the tables, and the walls decorated with mashed up food vanished. The Hog's Head had been the sight of a celebration of the Triwzard Tournament, one which had turned more and more raucous.

Many of the patrons here had placed bets on Charlotte Potter, and many of them had leered at the thought of fucking the girl almost to death, some of them being so perverted about it Aberforth had been disgusted. He had cast spells on dozens of the patrons to fight the ones who'd wished to do the same with the Veela girl, Fleur something.

Some might compare such methods to Albus' own methods, but truthfully Abertforth had wanted to each of them to just get into a fight. After what had happened with Arianna, Aberforth absolutely hated it whenever a lady was injured or threatened. And if the ones responsible got hurt, fantastic. He had spent the best half of his youth caring for his little sister, ever since those filthy muggles hurt her while Albus was swanning around doing Merlin knew what as part of his quest for personal recognition, and while she had died, he had sworn never to let any female suffer. Aberforth didn't care if those females were muggles, witches, muggleborns, or purebloods. To him, it made no difference.

Aberforth sighed as he thought of his sister. He wondered how Arianna would have taken this situation. She might have had Asperger's syndrome, but she had been highly intelligent when she'd wanted to be. Knowing her, she would have likely have come up with an idea of what the long term finale was going to be to this whole mess; the Triwizard, Albus….

He was just setting the locking runes when there were knocks on the door. Aberforth instantly stopped, looking shrewdly at the door in surprise. He knew it wasn't one of his patrons; even the ones who were so rat-arsed knew when he was closing up, and in any case, he had made it very very clear what would happen if they tried to break in. It had taken a while for the lesson to be learnt and while he lacked a lot of his brother's repertoire, Aberforth was still a powerful wizard.

No. This was someone else. Someone he knew.

Aberforth closed his eyes. "Oh, not again," he grunted.

Sighing and growling with frustration, he flicked his wand to open the door. When he saw who it was Aberforth needed to use all of his occlumency experience not to lose it, although he didn't stop himself from gazing at his brother with disgusted loathing. Framed in the doorway was Albus Dumbledore.

Albus stared at him in astonishment. "Aberforth, is that you?"

Aberforth grunted. "You fucking know it is, Albus. Who else would be here at this time of night?"

_After all, you're the bastard who's made sure I never really had a home, aren't you? _He instantly put a stopper on those thoughts, not wanting to think about the past right now.

"But why have you shaved?" Albus wouldn't let it go as he stared at his younger brother with frank bewilderment, and there was a slight tinge of judgement in his eyes.

Aberforth lifted a brow. "Why are you here? Have you got more confessions you want to blab my way?'

"Aberforth-."

Aberforth sighed and he waved the other man in irritably. Once Albus had stepped over the threshold, Aberforth flicked his wand and he sat down at one of the tables. With another flick, two bottles of butterbeer flew out from under the counter, and over to the two estranged brothers.

"What do you want, Albus? You always only visit me when you wish to confess to one of your sins, and believe me, over the years, you've confessed a lot," Aberforth said in his "_you can tell me whatever you want, and I wouldn't care less_" voice.

"There's no need to be so hostile, Abe-."

"Oh, yes there is," Aberforth glowered at the nickname.

"Aberforth, please. Can we not talk like two civilised men over drinks?" Albus gave him a pleading look, and Aberforth's annoyance grew when he felt his brother's magic crashing against his occlumency barriers.

"If you lace your words with magic like that again, I'll break your jaw," he threatened. Albus gaped at the threat, but he did as he was told, while Aberforth smirked without any humour. "What do you want to talk about?" He asked, knowing that his so-called bastard brother would keep lacing his words with magic, regardless. But that was Albus all over. He was so finite, so out of it he never learnt from his mistakes.

Albus just stared at him for a long moment, clearly lost in thought. Aberforth wondered what was going through his mind before he decided it made little difference to him.

"I am now under investigation by the ICW," Albus said at last.

Aberforth couldn't help it, he laughed. "Really? And what, pray tell, made them do that to you?" He quipped.

"Abe, please-"

"Don't call me that. I don't care what you think, but just because you think you're Merlin reincarnated does not mean you can hand out nicknames to others!" Aberforth snapped. "What did you do for the ICW to investigate you? Was it because things at that once hallowed school have gone down the drain since you became Headmaster, and handed the Potions Master's position to a Death Eater who has spent the last decade depriving this world of Aurors, Healers? What did you think was going to happen when it was revealed what you were allowing that filthy greasy bastard that role?!"

"Severus-," Albus was about to say Severus had his complete trust, and Aberforth knew it which was why he interrupted him quickly.

"If you're gonna say Snape has your complete trust, don't Albus. He's no teacher. He's a rapist, a murderer. You can say he's a good man, but he's not. None of those Death Eaters are good people. Do you know how many times he and his pals came into my pub during their later years at Hogwarts? They came here, and they harassed several of my waitresses until some of them couldn't take it anymore. One night I caught him and those bastards trying to rape one of them. One of the villagers told them to stop, they'd tell the professors, and they laughed back saying they'd get a slap on the wrist. I stopped the whole thing, and I summoned the dick off of one of them. They thought I was you for a moment before I told them I was the wrong Dumbledore," Aberforth glowered at the memory for a moment before he carried on but he was more offended at being believed to be his brother, "That greasy bastard has exploited every chance you've given him, Albus. But now that girl has stood up and told the entire world what would happen in the long term, and the truth about the Death Eaters, and I thank Merlin for that. Its about time scum like him were rounded up and shoved either through the Veil or given the Dementor's Kiss."

Albus was stunned into silence by the rant, but by the end of it, he was horrified. "You don't believe that, surely?"

"Of course I do."

"But the Death Eaters are members of old families-!" Albus argued, but once more Aberforth angrily interrupted him.

"Oh shut up, you posturing piece of shit! You never cared when families as old as the McKinnons, or the Bones were wiped out, why care about scum like the Crabbes, the Notts, or the Malfoys? Why do you care so much about them? Someone might think you're a Death Eater sympathiser, the way you talk like that," Aberforth mentally smirked, knowing his brother would never be able to resist the bait.

"You know I'm not!"

"Then why do you keep telling everyone the Death Eaters deserve a second chance after the likes of Lucius Malfoy was known to be the chief rapist of muggleborns? Why the hell did you not ensure Bellatrix LeStrange wasn't executed for her crimes? The woman is a rabid dog, Albus; anyone with common sense would have her executed by now, but not you. No, you keep preaching in that almost dosed up with potions way of yours the likes of them can be redeemed when in truth the ones who came forwards and confessed their sins, you interfered and gave them on a slap on the wrist before you turned away, never once hearing them laughing at your gullibility!' Aberforth sneered. "How does it feel to know you've been duped, Albus?"

Albus was speechless. He had never really considered his brother to be really intelligent despite knowing how highly his brother had scored in the final NEWT tests during his time at Hogwarts, and he knew Aberforth had become an Unspeakable afterwards. Albus had always wanted to know what was being researched by the Unspeakables, but no matter what he had tried, he had never been able to discover their secrets. When he had persuaded a few people in the government shortly after Grindelwald's capture and imprisonment to have Aberforth removed as an Unspeakable, it was so then he could break his brother of his oaths so she could learn more about the Department of Mysteries, but alas he had underestimated the number of spells placed on each member which prevented outsiders from learning anything.

Aberforth had been furious with him for taking him away from the job, and he had been far from happy when he had learnt, thanks to Albus, he couldn't return or get another job at the Ministry, so he had been forced to become a bartender. A job he hated even now. But he had no choice. He had no place to go.

Aberforth glared at his brother. "Okay, Albus… What is it, what is it you want?"

Albus had been so stunned by the rage from Aberforth he had been rendered silent. "Why are you so angry with me? We are brothers-."

"No, we're not! If I had the means I would gladly ensure we were not related, but unfortunately, I happen to like my Dumbledore heritage, even if you are one yourself! In any case… How dare you claim we're brothers?! You were never a brother to me."

"Yes, I was-!" Albus protested hotly while he tried to control his anger. He knew it would do no good here.

"Then where the fuck were you when Mother and I were struggling with Arianna? Why did you nearly drive Arianna to the point of death whenever you were around, ashamed because she was a Dumbledore, and yet she couldn't use her magic? " Aberforth sneered, wanting nothing more than to curse his so-called brother for forcing him to dredge those memories out of his mind.

"I was merely trying to help her-!"

"Help? You've _never helped anyone in your life! _You don't care about anyone unless they can make you more powerful, and can help you with your insane quest for personal recognition! You take a step back from every single class at Hogwarts, even removing half a dozen of them, all because you say they are unnecessary, or they're 'dark.' But we both know the truth of that, don't we? You just don't want anybody being better at magic than you, but at the same time, you don't bat an eyelid at pushing those you're interested, although you don't bother to look to the potential damage. Look at Arianna; how many times did you nearly kill her, just so then she'd produce some form of magic, even a spark. It was mental torture. I'm grateful, towards the end, Mother realised what kind of wizard you really are. Even now you haven't changed, you still meddle in people's affairs as if they are your own. You stand back, letting the likes of Fudge and Malfoy screw the magical world up even more."

Albus shook his head. "That is not true. And as for Arianna, I truly regret what I did, but I feel shame for my actions."

Aberforth snorted disdainfully. He wondered if Albus had been sucking those stupid muggle sweets for too long. He couldn't believe Albus could say something so moronic. "Oh, like you feel shame for what you and your people have done to Charlotte Potter?"

Albus winced, although he knew he should have expected this. "I-I didn't mean for it to happen."

"Of course not, but it did. You have always been the same, Albus. You never did have any common sense. Even as children, you were happy to do as you pleased, and damn the consequences. You allowed two Dark Lords to rise when you had the means of stopping them, and now you're trying to create another one, all out of a girl who was orphaned."

"No, I am not trying to create any new Dark Lord-!" Albus protested, but Aberforth wasn't having any of it.

"Really? Then why is it you've been keeping her prisoner with a family of filthy muggles? Why have you been meddling in her life, pushing her? You even allowed her to be maimed in school, for Merlin's sake! Even now, thanks to this stupid Tournament and that part of the task where the Champions personal memories would be revealed every single magical supremacist will be making an example of the rape and abuse of Charlotte Potter, the last of an old magical family, and use it to prove their points about muggles! Why in the name of Morgana, would you do all that if you weren't trying, once more, to create a Dark Lady as part of your never-ending quest for personal glory?" Aberforth demanded, glaring at his former brother furiously. "You never learn from your mistakes, do you, Albus? Actually, why the hell am I asking? You kept trying to injure Arianna so she'd show some of her magical potential, but you were causing her incredible harm. And then, not learning from your mistakes, and from the pain, you put my sister in, you tried to do it again, to children under your supposed care?!"

Aberforth leapt to his feet and he began pacing around the Hog's Head, shaking with rage. He hadn't meant to lash out as much as he had, but he couldn't care less; his brother had spent so many years with his head in the clouds, getting away with everything he did, it was good for him to finally be dragged down to Planet Earth.

Albus meanwhile was staring at his brother in shock at his words. But before Albus could say anything, plead his case, Aberforth carried on in a calmer voice.

"You're a hypocrite, Albus. An arrogant hypocrite, you constantly preach to people they should do things like forgive and forget, and you talk about sacrifice but you never think of sacrificing anything. In fact, you never have in your life. You claim to care for others, how you support muggleborns, werewolves, and yet deep down inside you couldn't care less about them. You never learn from your mistakes, and you keep on repeating them time and time again; you did it with those kids at Hogwarts who came after Tom Riddle. You ruin and destroy lives, but now it's blown up in your face. What is the ICW doing?" Aberforth finished curiously. He didn't know or think for a moment Albus would reply to his question, but it never hurt to be sure.

He was surprised when Albus looked down into his bottle. "Hogwarts and indeed the Ministry is now under investigation," he replied, "the ICW mobilised within moments of Barty Crouch Junior's confession, and they took over before Fudge could do anything."

Aberforth snorted at the mention of the Minister. He didn't doubt for a moment the little fool would be kicked out within a year, and as for the rest of the Ministry, well he didn't care for any of them. It was partially due to the man in front of him that things had become as bad as they had for years, but Bagnold, Fudge, and several others had just made things worse. Aberforth didn't want to think of the monumental mess the Ministry was in, but realistically he felt it was a good thing. And if it wasn't…. well, Aberforth Dumbledore had lived a long life. Let the youth see just how bad their world had become over the decades.

"Have they taken your titles from you?" Aberforth asked, hoping that they had. It would be good for Albus to have lost a good portion of his former political power.

"They've suspended them," Albus replied quietly.

_Pity. It would have been good for you to lose them all, _Aberforth thought to himself, sitting down in front of his brother once more.

"Why do you hate me, Aberforth?" Albus whispered, looking at his brother desperately.

Aberforth opened his mouth to reply, but he closed it quickly and glared at Albus in disbelief. "You abandon your responsibilities to your family, you tortured Arianna because she was a disgrace in your mind and you kept trying to make her show off magic when you knew she wasn't capable of it. You didn't lift a finger, never mind a wand to help us when Father was shipped off to Azkaban. You murdered Arianna during that duel; Grindelwald may have been mad, but he always went out of his way to treat her with kindness and decency although I wonder if he was doing it to look good. When he rose to power, you allowed hundreds to die before you got off your arse to stop the madness. When you got into the government, you got me kicked out of my job and I eventually ended up here. You used me as your own personal little confessor despite the fact you ruined my plans for my own future. Who the hell do you think you are to decide what I do with my life? I had been trying to live my life without any issue for years, and then you poked your nose into my life. You continue to ruin hundreds of lives because you see them as expendable in your quest for personal glory, and you have the nerve to ask me why I hate you?!"

With that Aberforth stood up and walked back to the counter. "Just get out of here, Albus. I never want to see or speak to you ever again, and if you do, well… I think we've both lived long lives, haven't we?"

Albus looked up aghast. Surely his brother didn't mean what he had just said- and then he saw that he did. And for the first time ever in his long life, Albus Dumbledore reflected on his actions, or rather inactions. But he didn't think he had done anything wrong aside from taking Aberforth out of a difficult job, after all that was what brothers did, right? Look out for one another. Clearly, Aberforth was being unreasonable, and as for their sister, why could no-one see he had been trying to help her?

Mystified but hurt, Albus walked out of the Hog's Head for good.


	25. Chapter 25 Edgware Road

I do not own Harry Potter. However I own this story, and I own the series its a part of; believe me, if I were writing Harry Potter originally, I wouldn't have made him into a complete bloody wimp.

Anyway, I've got fanfiction, right?

Please let me know what you think.

* * *

The Hell of Fourth Year.

Returning to his office after his horrible meeting with Aberforth, Albus threw himself into his chair groaned. He was extremely tired, and he had gone to the Hog's Head to not only get some strong Firewhiskey, but also some conversation with the only family member he had left. Neither he nor Aberforth had children; Albus because he was gay and because the opposite sex didn't appeal to him, although he knew that was not a good excuse, especially if the Dumledores were as insanely obsessed with the preservation of the bloodline as other insane families.

And Aberforth… Albus looked down sadly, Aberforth had declared he would rather see the Dumbledore family go extinct than have children who'd become pawns of his brother and his sick games.

Albus shoved those unpleasant memories aside, especially since they mixed strongly with the memory of their sister's funeral and Aberforth had punched him hard in the nose so it now appeared crooked, and he focused on his new problems while at the same time wondering just how long he would have left. He looked around the Headmaster's office, wondering how long it would be before he was kicked out by both the magic of the castle and by the power of the ICW.

Traditionally the only power which could oust the Headmaster or Headmistress who was currently reining was if the castle believed they were losing their way and were harming the students. However, the Board of Governors could present the castle with the case, and that would break the bond between the castle and with the Headteacher. The only good thing about that method and this was where Lucius Malfoy's attempt to kick him out two years prior had failed, was the castle itself needed to be in agreement, and since the school was aware he had the means and the power to oppose the basilisk and protect the muggle-born students even if he had felt the castle's bond slacken a little, it hadn't abandoned him.

But now that bond was fraying and Albus knew he had crossed the line where the school was concerned. Soon, he would be replaced and he would be forced to leave while somebody else took the Headmaster position at Hogwarts, all because of everything he had done to Charlotte Potter.

Albus grimaced as he thought about the girl. He had little doubt the final straw for the castle had been when he had gotten the idea into his mind he should wipe Charlotte's memories which meant his connection was now a dim light compared to what it had been before, but over time before the girl's altercation with Miss Bones it had been fraying since the castle wasn't happy with the way things were going, and how he was obsessed with ruling Charlotte's life to ensure she fought Voldemort for the Greater Good.

He grimaced again, he had enough troubles as it was with the castle's bond with him fraying although he knew many in the magical world would enjoy seeming him lose his hold over the school.

It was bad enough Crouch Jr had been revealed as the Death Eater who'd placed the girl's name in the Goblet of Fire, which now not only cast considerable doubt over his ability to ensure the security of the castle, which was another reason why the castle was displeased with him since he had gotten vibes the castle wondered if he cared more for his plans than the security of the students, which was shared by the DMLE which was bad enough but by the ICW.

The ICW hadn't wasted any time. As soon as Crouch was led away, they had mobilised with the most ruthless Aurors in the profession and they had stormed the Ministry with a very intricate warrant, overruling Amelia's control over Crouch Jr although Dumbledore felt it was slightly overkill even by their standards since there was no way Fudge could do anything. Oh, Albus knew Fudge had tried to do something, the little fool was forever predictable, but the difference between the Aurors the ICW sent and the ones at home was, well the ICW Aurors were more powerful, and the people in command of them had made it plain to Fudge if he tried anything _even remotely_ stupid, they would arrest him. Dumbledore hadn't bothered to interfere since he had problems of his own, namely making sure they didn't try to take Severus away while he was careful himself.

If there was one good thing about the public revelation (Dumbledore did have questions about how Charlotte found him in the first place), it was that there was too much scrutiny into the case, and if Fudge tried to silence Crouch Jr, he'd regret it.

But there was no chance of that happening. While a few of the hardcore of Fudge's supporters might carry out some of Fudge's insane and badly thought through orders, the ICW's control over Britain was strangling the country. Dumbledore hoped the pompous little fool and his army of 'yes men' were kicked out and they stayed out. In fact he had no problem thinking they would; the ICW commander was not renowned for her patience, but that was the reason she was chosen. Her task was to uproot the corruption in the magical world caused by the Death Eaters and to investigate Dumbledore's own misdeeds.

Dumbledore had needed to be careful with how he protected Severus since they were taking all the 'upstanding purebloods' who made up Voldemort's ranks and were questioning vigorously despite Fudge's protests.

No, the reasons for the ICW's mass arrests of the Death Eaters was because they had been waiting for an excuse to do it for a very long time. The ICW had learnt from the mistakes following the Grindelwald war, and when Voldemort had risen to power, Albus had needed to keep them at bay despite the yells saying the Death Eaters were on the verge of revealing their world to the muggles. Albus had claimed it was an internal affair, and nothing to worry about, but the ICW hadn't believed him. And they had pressured him on and on, and Dumbledore was sure Voldemort knew about it because he kept on attacking and attacking. It would have only been a matter of time before the muggles found out about them, and the ICW would get involved, and that was trouble Britain did not need.

When Voldemort was defeated by Charlotte Potter, the ICW had wanted the Death Eaters. All of them. They had wanted examples, people to punish. They wanted the population of Britain to understand the penalty for endangering the Statute of Secrecy, and that joining an organisation like the Death Eaters had consequences and would not be tolerated. They had planned to execute the Death Eaters and reduce the families to a cinder of the fire they had used to be, and they had wanted to make the British Ministry pay the price for their lack of true action while cleaning it out of corruption so another dark lord couldn't take control as easily.

While Albus could understand their views, it had been a fight and a half to stop it happening. They had needed to preserve the families of the country, which had already suffered as a result of Voldemort's genocidal campaign, but they had succeeded in keeping the ICW out thanks to the Imperius lie. That in itself had provided the leverage, but the ICW had never been comfortable with it, and since so many countries abroad had been preparing for the Death Eaters and their deranged psychopath of a master to come knocking at their doors, they had prepared their wards so if any of the 'repentant' Death Eaters came on holiday, they'd be captured and arrested and pumped so full of truth potion it would have reduced the lie to what it was, a lie.

Albus had always known the Death Eaters weren't under the Imperius; even a master of the Dark Arts like Voldemort could not concentre such a curse on a large number of followers for a long period. It was impossible. However, he did believe they could be redeemed, but only as long as they saw the cancer Voldemort was spreading. He had the long-standing hope the death of Voldemort would make them see the damage they were causing, and they would regret their actions which meant they could finally be forgiven.

But now the ICW was ruining those hopes, and Albus now knew they would soon be calling for the mass arrests of the Death Eaters, and very soon they would be wiping them out for good. Couldn't the ICW understand if they killed the Death Eaters, more magical blood would be spilt? That was the real reason he had ensured the Order didn't kill any of them during the war, and it was why he had worked hard to prevent this nightmare from happening in the past, and why he was determined for the magical world to unite.

He was also worried about Severus.

Albus had ensured the Potions Master obeyed him by tricking the man into making a magical oath. But Albus wasn't blind; he knew the former Death Eater was far from an innocent, after all, Crouch Jr's revelations he had known about. He had known the truth of the initiation of the Death Eaters, and he had known they couldn't have taken their marks through coercion. The depths Voldemort was willing to sink to and ensure others did as well were sickening him. However, he preferred to ignore it. Snape had been so desperate for him to keep Lily Potter safe, but since the man, and indeed the world, believed the stupid Mudblood was dead. The oath was the reason why the man was at Hogwarts in the first place. The revelations didn't turn Albus against Snape, however, they would attract the ICW, and he would need to concentrate on keeping them away from Snape. He simply knew too much, and if they got their hands on Snape, then they could make the Potions Master talk.

XXX

Charlotte shivered at the memories as she slowly walked out of Edgware Road Underground station, putting away her ticket and shoving it into her pocket. _Damn it, I had to do this at night, didn't I? But since the thing I encountered that night, long ago appeared at night, I knew I had to come back at night. _

She had known for a long time she would need to return here to face her inner demons - she even planned to return to Privet Drive, and…. To that _House _but she pushed those damn memories out of her mind to focus. The ICW's presence in Britain had been felt throughout the country, and Charlotte had been overjoyed reading the stories in the Daily Prophet of the Death Eaters being rounded up, and the corrupt bastards in the Ministry were being hunted down. The paper had been on their best behaviour since the ICW had made it clear to the paper if they printed anything derogatory about them, they would be arrested immediately, although personally, Charlotte would love to see the Prophet burnt to the ground.

She had been very busy recently, a nice little busy bee. She had been placing monitoring spells close to Umbridge's home so she could steal the information the foul bitch had hidden about her prostitution/slavery ring, and then hand it to the ICW and she had even broken into the place in order to get the lay of the land so she could form her burglary plan, using Umbridge's knowledge of the security of her home.

Umbridge's scheme for her home security was actually pretty good and yet it was absolutely useless; the idiotic woman had placed a dozen powerful wards on her property that were Ministry appropriate so they weren't considered 'dark' so they wouldn't attract attention - she had known the risk since sooner or later it would have happened. However underneath those layers were a few darker wards, but it was useless against Charlotte since she had the woman's passwords. At the same time, the woman hadn't bothered to key in recognition spells into the ward scheme, so any Tom, Dick or Harry could break in without any problems if they had the passwords. Umbridge was not only stupid, she was complacent and so arrogant to believe nobody could break into her home. It would only take a skilled witch or wizard with a strong knowledge of magic and warding to find out how the wards worked, and they'd get in without any problems.

Umbridge hadn't even taken the precaution of placing spells inside her property to detect intruders who'd managed to break through her wards. Charlotte had checked out for those thoroughly to be on the safe side, in case Umbridge had gotten it into her little brain wipe her own memory for security. Well, Charlotte did. It only took the teenage burglar five minutes to get in, and only two to reset the protection scheme on her way out.

Charlotte grimaced as she walked down the streets while she used her occlumency to mask her nervousness about what she was going to find, she remembered the hideous way the house was decorated. She had _never liked_ pink, she _despised_ dried flowers, and while she liked cats she despised those stupid kitten plates in Umbridge's house.

She had spent an hour in Umbridge's house. She had found the woman's safe, she had found out where she kept her money, but she had spent her time making a plan for getting in and getting out safely. Once she had finished Charlotte's immediate plan was to return home, back to the windmill so she could spend time with Nightstar…. And yet she couldn't. Ever since the Second Task where so many bad memories had been brought to the fore, Charlotte had been thinking of her past a lot more than she normally did. Charlotte always tried to look to the future since her past had been what had defined her, but since those memories had been torn through her occlumency barriers and everyone had seen Vernon Dursley rape her, she had been confronted with the idea of visiting those place where the worst things had happened to her.

Edgware Road wasn't the very _worst _thing that had happened to her in London, far from it; there had been numerous things which had shaped her life in this city when she had been a kid, but Edgware Road had been one of the eeriest things to have ever happened to her and she would prefer to deal with this rather than visit Privet Drive or _that house. _

Walking down the streets, Charlotte saw nothing had changed much, but she kept her wands firmly within her twin grasp. She had no idea what it was that she had encountered all those years ago, but she had no intention of going in there without some kind of protection.

She made her way to Bryanston Square. There was a park there, and that was where she had found the thing, and as she walked slowly into the park, she hesitated, but she pulled herself together; she had broken into the Louvre, the Tower of London, she had so far managed to survive two Tasks of the Triwizard Tournament; she could survive this.

She was halfway through the park, when Charlotte returned to the place she hadn't been in a long time.

Charlotte turned in a circle, waving her wands as she did and muttering in Latin. She placed up wards to prevent muggles nearby from seeing too much, and if they did well they would fall asleep as soon as her spells hit them. She also began scanning the park, scanning for the telltale signs of ghosts, spirits, vampires…. Anything.

And then she found something.

There were remnants of a ward on this part of the park. Charlotte frowned, and she continued her work to understand it, and it took her a few minutes of work, thankful Slytherin and Ravenclaw had both been teaching her the ins and the outs of warding, especially ancient level warding, which allowed her to scan the wards in this place. When she was finished she wasn't sure what to think.

The wards around the place were a muggle repelling ward, and it had been applied many, many times the magic had become so deeply imprinted on the park. There were also signs of recent portkey activity. But the most intriguing spell over the part of the park was a spell designed to terrify magicals, but there was no sign of any trace of who cast the spells in the first place. That made sense. It also made sense about the ward designed to terrify magical people; that was why she had been frightened out of her wits.

But her curiosity was aroused.

Why would someone come here and where did the portkeys go?

Charlotte lifted her wands again, and she prepared herself mentally. This was hard work, but she hoped whoever had cast the spells originally didn't notice any botch up on her part, well at least until she found out what all this was about. The problem was she had no idea if whoever the caster would come back any time soon, but she wanted to know who it was.

They'd gone to a lot of trouble to ward it off in this part of London.

She wanted to know why.


	26. Chapter 26 Revenge on the Toad

I don't own Harry Potter, just this collection of stories.

Please let me know what you think.

* * *

The Hell of Fourth Year.

In her house, Dolores Umbridge blustered as she went around her home, frequently checking on her own appearance as she prepared for another day of work at the Ministry. However, she wasn't looking forwards to it, but then again very few people were enjoying work at the Ministry. She supposed that she would be spending an entire day trying to stop the ICW from meddling in British affairs, and she knew while Cornelius had given her his support, he had also cautioned her to be careful.

The ICW's invasion of Britain was thorough and they were poking their noses into the affairs of their true betters, but there was nothing Cornelius could do about it since they had summoned him to their island Headquarters which had been magically constructed so it would be truly international without having any magical community favoured above others.

When the ICW was formed originally, they had wanted to establish their centre of government in a truly neutral place with no connection whatsoever to any magical country. The result was a magically constructed island, warded against muggles and unnoticeable and unplottable.

The ICW had been in Britain for a good couple of weeks before Cornelius was summoned while Umbridge hadn't been invited, despite her high rank in the Ministry. Cornelius had gone on his own, but he had been gone for a whole day and when he did return, Dolores knew the meeting hadn't gone the Minister's way. Cornelius had been on the verge of protesting at the harsh way the ICW had ridden roughshod over Britain, but when he had come back she had discovered in his hands was an impeachment form with a warning making it clear if the ICW investigation discovered anything in Cornelius' time as Minister which they did not like, then Britain would be forced to find a new Minister for Magic.

To make matters worse, Dolores had discovered she was not even being considered. The ICW letter had made that very clear, and they had added that a Minister for Magic's primary responsibility was to uphold the Statute of Secrecy and to have a clear head. Dolores hadn't bothered trying to reason out what they had meant, she had been too insulted while she had nursed her own ego by saying she was clear-headed.

However, if she had bothered to read the letter properly with some degree of thought, then she would have discovered the ICW hadn't liked the bigoted way that she had addressed the youngest Triwizard Champion, however that was probably just as well given how it would have only fuelled her desire to make sure Charlotte Potter paid the price for the way she had humiliated the Ministry in the aftermath of the Second Task. But in the ICW's collective view, Dolores Umbridge's bigotry would make her a terrible Minister, and if she did take power then the problems they were aware of in Britain could escalate until the barriers protecting them from the muggles was broken down completely.

Sure, the ICW was certain Umbridge wasn't that stupid, but the investigation team had sent back a number of reports about the Ministry, and given how Umbridge continued to try to interfere in the investigation and throwing her weight around, certain her title would protect her if she recited it often enough, the ICW was becoming more and more convinced if Dolores Umbridge did become Minister, then things in Magical Britain would become much worse.

After she had donned her pink cloak and wrapped it around her pink cardigan, Dolores examined herself in the mirror, nodding in delight at what she saw before walked through the kitchen to the back door. Once there, she flicked her wand at the garden door while she picked up her purse which was dimensionally transcendental like one of those travelling trunks, but contained her files and documents. She had been trying to cover up for Cornelius recently by taking away anything she believed would incriminate him, and there were dozens of documents and files about money being taken away from lesser and unimportant departments like the DMLE.

Once she was out of her house, Dolores sneered as she always did at the muggle neighbourhood that she could still see the tops of over the ivy-covered brick walls. Dolores, despite her dislike and hatred for muggles, mudbloods, blood traitors, and filthy halfbreeds, had actually chosen to live in a muggle neighbourhood because she liked to laud her presence on them. It amused her no end that she, a powerful witch, could live near muggles although she was frustrated they didn't know anything about her magical abilities; if they did, Dolores knew that she would be living like a queen while they cleaned her house like the filthy animals they were and tended to her garden, prepared her food and she would live lavishly, while they lived like peasants.

But, because of the ridiculous need for secrecy, Dolores couldn't live out her fantasies and if the ICW realised what she was doing then she would be hunted down and arrested before she could blink or even think of getting away.

Umbridge walked out of her house and stepped onto the patio outside, enjoying the early morning sun although she wrinkled her nose in disgust at the polluted air. If she needed any further proof muggles were disgusting, it was the way they polluted the air they needed to breathe. Did they not think about what they were doing? It was completely beyond her comprehension why some wizards didn't see what the muggles were like. With a sigh, Dolores flicked her wand and closed the door and set the passwords to her ward scheme before she walked to the centre of her garden, focusing on the Ministry as she did. She vanished with a pop as she disapparated, unaware that she was being watched the whole time.

For a long few moments, everything in the garden was silent and then there was a movement in the shadows of a flower bed next to a tree and a long and beautiful black cat emerged and padded silently over the grass towards the house. The cat stopped on the patio, staring up at the house with its single good green eye.

One moment there was a black cat there, and then suddenly there was a petite black haired girl wearing a purple t-shirt topped by a black leather jacket and dark trousers with trainers while there was a black backpack on her back. The girl had only one green eye, just like the cat.

Charlotte reached into the inside pocket of her jacket and pulled out her sunglasses and slipped them onto her face. She had spent the last few hours waiting patiently for Umbridge to leave her house so she could begin the burglary. Using her wand, Charlotte unlocked the house while at the same time inputting the passwords. When she walked inside, Charlotte slipped out her second wand, and she moved through the house, fully expecting Umbridge to have somehow noticed her previous break-in. She soon discovered that wasn't the case; Charlotte mentally wondered what was wrong with the collective intellect of the magical world but she was delighted with Umbridge's complacency since it meant she would hopefully be arrested, and after that, well Charlotte decided she didn't care nor did she know what would happen to Umbridge in the long term once it got out what she was doing.

Once she was in the room where the safe was, Charlotte quickly got to work. She very carefully studied the defences to see if there was anything else she had missed, anything new, but there wasn't. Once she was reassured about that little news, Charlotte began working slowly on opening the safe up. It took her ten minutes of work, given she was wondering if the Umbitch had some nasty hidden surprise waiting. But she was relieved when she found nothing waiting for her as she finally opened the safe and she smirked at the contents.

The safe was neatly arranged, with the account and address books stacked neatly on the left. The address books contained the names of the owners of the brothel owners Umbridge sold the kids to and the addresses of the brothels themselves. Charlotte could imagine the ICW taking a great deal of interest in that information alone, and there were also diaries of auctions where the unfortunate children were sold off, and times where they were meant to take place.

Charlotte took out the books and placed them into her backpack and then she turned her head, grimacing when she saw a large box she knew contained memories. Umbridge enjoyed visiting the shows where the muggles, muggle-born children were sold, and also when they were abused, and she also enjoyed selecting the best memories, and replaying them time and again in the Pensieve the odious bitch had in the safe as well.

But that wasn't the most ghastly thing in the safe; to the front of the right-hand corner of the safe was a large glass dildo. Charlotte closed her eyes, knowing what Umbridge did with that fucking thing, and she turned away, taking out of the safe the memories and putting them into the pack.

She knew there was more than enough evidence in the memories alone to sign the death warrants of not only Umbridge but others as well. The address books alone contained a lot of incriminating information about where some of the brothels were, many of which were likely to be secret and illegal, and they were bound to be frequented.

Charlotte closed her backpack and she closed the safe. She honestly didn't have a clue when Umbridge was going to come back if the ICW didn't move quickly, and if the toad bitch did come back while the ICW was going over the evidence, well she didn't want Umbridge to escape.

After securing the safe and walking out of the house, Charlotte reset the security of the house and then she walked away from the neighbourhood towards the nearest Tube station.

XXX

Charlotte was kicking herself now for forgetting about the early morning rush hour, but that was an occupational hazard for whenever you skipped London for a good few months, and you didn't often use the network in the intervening period. The Tube train she was on was packed tight and solid, but Charlotte was grateful she had cast a number of spells on her backpack to prevent it from being nicked or damaged. Charlotte was a Londoner (she'd discovered her birth certificate and learnt St. Mungo's hospital was in London), and she had spent a good chunk of her life in the city, and since she had used the Underground to pick people's pockets, she knew the risks.

Charlotte closed her eye as she remembered those times, remembering all the near misses where she'd nearly been caught.

"Hi," she felt somebody tug on her jacket sleeve and pull it, "why are wearing those sunglasses?"

Charlotte looked around at the sound the voice which had snapped her out of her thoughts, and she turned and found a little dark-haired boy with a long face and high cheekbones, wearing a dark jacket over a brightly coloured 'Thomas the Tank Engine" t-shirt and little jeans standing at her feet. For a moment, she was stunned any small child would be bold enough to come up to her since it had never really happened to her before, so she didn't know how to react.

"Errr," she began, unsure of what to say while at the same time she recalled the dim memories of teachers (was it teaches?) saying "DO NOT TALK TO STRANGERS" to their students when she'd been young, and this kid looked much the same age she'd been when she had heard the repetitive but simple statement.

"Robert? Robert, where are you? Come back, I can't see you!" An urgent female voice called through the carriage.

"He's over here!" Charlotte raised her voice.

"What? Hold on!" A few minutes later a harried-looking woman with the boy's long face and high cheekbones, but far more developed, appeared. She glared down at the boy. "What have I told you, never get ahead of me, especially on the Tube!"

"But mommy-!" The boy pouted while Charlotte stiffened out of reflex; she remembered all the times she had tried, before she had known any better, to use the same technique with Petunia. Needless to say, she hadn't done it often, and it invariably got her injured. If this woman so much as touched or threatened the boy-

"No!" She scolded. "You do not run ahead! What if you'd fallen onto the tracks?"

"I only wanted to ask da lady," the boy turned his head to indicate Charlotte before turning back to his mother, "why she's wearing the sunglasses."

Robert's mother turned to Charlotte and noticing she was indeed wearing sunglasses turned back to the boy. "That's her choice, sweetie, now come and leave her alone. I'm so sorry," she added, looking up at the teenager.

"It's okay," Charlotte waved a hand dismissively. "I'm not bothered that much."

"So…why are you wearing da sunglasses?" Robert seemed to be taking her indifference to his curiosity as permission to ask the question again.

"Robert!" his mother scolded him, making him look sheepish.

But Charlotte got in quickly. "It's okay," she looked down solemnly at the little boy. "My eye was…..well, destroyed. So I've only got one left. The sunglasses protect what I've got left."

She looked up into the mother's own eye and she pulled down her sunglasses only a fraction to show her that she was telling the truth. The mother recoiled in horror when she took in the stitched over eyelids and the terrible scarring.

"My God!"

Little Robert was looking up between the two women curiously. "Mommy, what is it?"

Refusing to shatter the little boy's innocence, Charlotte nodded solemnly and she turned just as the sound of the carriage and the wheels it was travelling on rattled in the way to indicate the train was slowing down to stop at a station. She turned and looked at the name of the station as the train crawled to a stop.

"This is where I get off," she announced, inwardly grateful to getaway. However she had a message for the boy just as she was getting off the train. "See you around, kid. And take care, the world is not a nice place."

It might've been the wrong sort of message to give to a little kid, at least in the minds of the parents who wanted to coddle their kids, but for someone like Charlotte, the advice was probably the best advice she could ever give. Well, that and _never trust anyone. _

XXX

Charlotte walked through Diagon Alley, running a hand over her disguised features. She had used a powerful glamour charm which made her appear as a dark-skinned girl who was slightly older, and she had transfigured her clothes into dark purple coloured robes. At the same time she cast an illusion similar to the one she had used during the Yule Ball on those glasses so if someone looked at her, they would see two dark eyes. She headed into the Owl Post Office and she went to the back of the shop. She opened her backpack and quietly and quickly she thought of a cardboard box and she conjured one. Once the box was formed, Charlotte got up, took the box out of her bag and winced at the weight before she stood in line.

When she reached the counter, Charlotte had needed to reapply the glamour charm twice.

"Can I help you?" Charlotte stood at the counter and she smiled at the server.

"Yes, please. I'd like you to send this off. Urgently," Charlotte gently placed the box on the counter.

"Certainly, miss. Where do you want it sent?" The server asked, levitating it up with her wand and checking the weight.

"To the ICW in the Ministry of Magic." The moment it was out of her mouth, Charlotte more or less regretted it."

"The ICW?" The server's previously welcoming attitude had slipped, making Charlotte hope she wasn't dealing with one of those people who stuck their heads in their sand, collectively bleating their world was safe when in fact it was a mass of lies.

Charlotte nodded. "Yes," she replied, wondering how she could cover this without anyone going mad, but then she decided to take the law into her own hands. Silently she used her legilimency skills and she implanted the compulsion into the server's mind to drop the question, and just do as she was told. But at the same time…

There were moments like this where Charlotte honestly believed her magic made things too easy whereas in the past she had relied more on her wits, her brain, and her skills. When she had been on the streets, her ability to control her magic was practically nascent. But it was there, and it was because of the random ability she had of controlling them, she had been forced to rely more on her brain and her wits rather than using unlocking spells to constantly unlock doors.

Charlotte knew if she had been sending this package off to the ICW, then she wouldn't be sending it via public post. But she didn't know how the Ministry's post system worked, so this would have to do, and she wanted this done quickly without going all the way back to Hogwarts where she could just use one of the owls in the Owlery.

To make it worse, Charlotte knew she would have come up with a far better cover story.

_Damn it, I really have become sloppy. I'm going to have to change that,_ she thought to herself while the server took her package, weighed it out and stamped on it with her wand.

"Seven galleons please," she announced as if nobody had manipulated her mind.

Charlotte counted out the gold coins. "Bit pricey," she commented as she passed the money.

"It's quite heavy even for a short distance drop," the server counted the cash and she put the coins into a till before waving her wand and a receipt appeared.

"Thank you, come again soon," the server passed her the receipt.

As she left the post office, dropping the receipt into her pocket, Charlotte walked back out of the Alley. She didn't slow down even as she waved her wand over the gateway, and back out of the Leaky Cauldron.

XXX

Mick Douglas hated Britain. He hated the cold chilly climate - yeah, the Brits might say whatever they'd bloody well like about the weather being warm, but as an Australian born and raised, thank you very much, but it was so bloody cold - but he hated just how _old and archaic _everything in Magical Britain appeared to be.

As an ICW inspector and inquisitor - sometimes Mick wondered who the fuck had not bothered to tell him this was not a job he would enjoy occasionally despite finding it satisfying from time to time - Mick had visited many magical countries, and he knew even with the country divides which were prevalent with muggles, but somehow he had always seemed to miss Britain. Many in the ICW were noticing that as well, and many were claiming Dumbledore was the main cause.

Mick was one of those people who believed Albus Dumbledore had been handed way too many positions that one person could handle. While the conniving old bugger had defeated Grindelwald and he had successfully prevented the insane dickhead from revealing the magical world to the muggles, and Mick would be forever grateful for that, he wished Dumbledore had let them come into this country frequently so then they wouldn't have this monumental mess to clean up.

The British were stupid. They honestly believed that blood purity nonsense which Mick had seen at different levels around the world, but this country could certainly give the MACUSA a run for its Galleons (granted, the Rappaport Laws had been a desperate attempt to prevent magic from being discovered, and that Twelvetrees' disaster had pointed out so many flaws in allowing muggles to view magic) when it came to bigotry, but America was different since the MACUSA were so _determined _to prevent another disaster like that from happening again, especially following that mess with Grindelwald who'd nearly revealed the truth to muggles despite their best efforts although if Newt Scamander hadn't used that mixture with his Thunderbird, the muggles would have discovered magic, if a Dark Lord tried to rise, they would put a stop to it instantly.

But the Brits…

Not only did they proudly talk of their heritage and looked down their nose at those they considered beneath them, they believed their family names meant something around the world. Mick and the other inquisitors and Aurors from various countries _truly did not care _how old somebody's family was, they didn't care how rich they were, and they were so tired with being threatened with retribution for their investigation, how their families would do this, how they would do that, and they'd used their stupid slurs against them. The good thing was many of those same people had been investigated thoroughly and were discovered to be beyond corrupt. It had been a pleasure to see them arrested, and even better there was nothing their stupid families could do about it.

Their Ministry was a mess. Not only was Fudge allowed to run around, cutting funding to various departments which were vital to the safety and the security of the British Magical Community (why didn't anyone here seem to understand the DMLE were vital for making sure rogue witches and wizards did not cause problems into the muggle world? On top of that Fudge's blustering about the DMLE not even being needed since 'He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named' had been defeated was not a good excuse), but he was allowed to get away with it. Amelia Bones and some of the other department heads were good and all, but their hands were tied.

Ever since he and the others came here, Fudge and his chief enforcer had blustered and had tried to stop them - Fudge had been brought into the ICW and he'd been given the facts of life, and now the idiot was lying low. Unfortunately, that toad-faced idiot whom Mick had always discovered was a nasty piece of work just didn't get the message; she was so arrogant and so sure of being protected by Fudge she was blind to reality.

Mick had spent the last few weeks looking for something on her, and already he had a lot of evidence to arrest the bitch and make her see the depths of her mistakes.

"Hey," he looked up and he grinned when he saw Orla coming towards him, with two white steaming cups in her hands. He could see the steam rising gently and he could smell the scent of fresh coffee. "Hard at it?'

"You can say that again," Mick gratefully took the coffee, letting his medallion which was charmed to detect poisons and potions see if there was anything in it - it was a paranoid habit he had picked up although he had very nearly died because a nasty and rather stupid witch had tried to kill him, but he had managed to get away and cured before the poison took hold - and he took a sip when it turned up negative. He smacked his lips in delight at the rich taste. "How is it going for you?"

Orla grimaced. "Same as you. We're all getting so many leads, many of them lead to dead-ends, but most often we get something on someone or a nest of someones with skeletons in their closets."

Mick nodded but before he could say anything more an owl swooped in. Mick was instantly on his feet with his wand out, stunned and he watched as the owl dropped a wrapped brown package onto the desk he'd taken for the investigation. Once it had done its job, the owl flew out and out of sight.

"Owls," Mick grumbled. "Why the hell do the British use them?"

Orla was more interested in the package. She raised her own wand and was scanning the package. "There's definitely something magical in there, Mick. But nothing harmful."

Silently Mick raised his wand and he stripped the packaging off revealing a box containing what looked like memories and a collection of leather-bound books.

"What the hell?" Mick whispered while Orla ran her wand her over the collection but she found nothing on them, except for a hastily written note on a scrap of paper. "What does it say?" Mick asked as Orla bent over to read it.

"'From a concerned citizen,' that's it," Orla frowned in confusion.

"Helpful," Mick commented and he levitated the pensieve he had brought with him. He had learnt over the years in his job to always go over meetings which seemed bizarre, and use the pensieve to pick out what it was.

He took one of the memories and poured it into the bowl. Once the memory was swirling into the bowl, Mick tapped one of the runes on the side of the pensieve.

Half an hour later, Mick and Orla were both feeling sick and furious by what they had just witnessed. "That bitch!" Orla whispered in horror, shaking her head. "How could anyone do that?"

Mick was just as angry. "Get the others. They need to see this."

"Gladly."

XXX

With Amelia and Cornelius with her, Dolores walked through the Ministry's familiar corridors towards the office the ICW had adopted, puzzled. She had been in a meeting with Cornelius and Bones when the ICW rudely burst in and told them to come immediately to the ICW office. The filthy foreigners had dragged them out of the Minister's office and were marching them towards the ICW.

The door to the office was opened and they were roughly ushered in and Dolores was frozen in shock when she saw a memory being played out from a pensieve. The memory was showing two little boys, twins, being stripped naked while a group of familiar pureblooded wizards and witches laughed or cackled madly while the boys were forced to dance while crying their eyes out.

"What is the meaning of this?" Fudge whispered in horror.

"I would like to know that as well," Amelia, however, was glaring at Umbridge in suspicion.

Mick, however, walked in front of Umbridge while he handed Fudge and Bones a report that made Fudge instantly shake his head in denial. "Dolores Umbridge. You are hereby under arrest for illegal prostitution and auctioning of muggles and muggleborns. You will hand over your wand right now, and if you try to fight, it will be further proof of your guilt. You have the right to a defence, but anything you say could be used against you."

Umbridge shook her head. "I am the Senior Undersecretary-!"

Suddenly she screamed as she was thrown against a wall, and she was left stunned when she hit her head. Umbridge groaned and slid to the ground, shaken by what had just happened.

"Get the toad out of my sight," Mick glared at Fudge and inwardly grinned in delight at the arrogant little man's shock and horror. "Now do you see we're not to be pushed, Minister?" He asked, uttering the last word with the contempt it deserved before his voice hardened. "You'd better not have known about what she was doing, Minister. If you did, you can kiss your career goodbye."

* * *

I'm thinking of writing a Young Charlotte series, detailing the adventures and exploits of Charlotte after she'd killed the Dursleys. If you like this and if you've got any ideas for stories, be my guest to drop me suggestions. But please don't make them insane, and please use some logic when coming up with them; I don't want her flying on dragons as a kid or things like that.


	27. Chapter 27 Going back to Basics

I don't own Harry Potter, I just own this collection of stories and everything else I have planned for the future.

Anyway, any comments or suggestions, please leave a nice review.

* * *

The Hell of Fourth Year.

Charlotte was jogging through the woods near the mill the next day. It never failed to amaze the teenager that around this time the day before she was breaking into Dolores Umbridge's house and an hour or so later she was sending off everything she had nicked to the ICW. The newspapers hadn't come out with the report yet - Charlotte guessed the ICW was busily going over every memory with the toad and heaven only knew who else before they made the final arrest stick, but she knew Umbridge was part of a nasty organisation and the ICW would need time to get everything prepared for a mass arrest - but she wasn't thinking about that.

To her, whatever happened to Dolores Umbridge meant nothing in the grand scheme of things.

Her mind was on what she'd realised yesterday.

Magic had made her lazy. Yeah, she knew as a witch she was meant to use magic constantly but at the same time when she was younger, she had relied more on her wits. Her guts. Yesterday she had nearly been caught out by that woman in the Post Office. Even now Charlotte was left cringing to herself at how she had walked slap bang into that inevitable wall.

Why the hell had she gone to the Post Office in the first place? What had possessed her to even tell the woman at the counter it was for the ICW when there were so many other departments in the Ministry? While she didn't like Amelia Bones and liked Susan even less, Charlotte knew the woman would get the job done and would take everything that was sent to her to the ICW. Hell, she could have sent the lot to the Daily Prophet (alright, deep down she would never send anything to that lot; Fudge might be under investigation, but the pompous idiot would tell his contacts in the newspaper to destroy the evidence. Everything), but she hadn't.

No, she had just taken the lot to the bloody Post Office, and she had blabbed about the ICW. What was wrong with her? Had she forgotten her training as a burglar, a pickpocket? Charlotte honestly hoped she hadn't forgotten any of her old skills, or they had atrophied away like a steam engine rusting away in the scrapyard, beaten down by periodic wind and rain and snow, the paintwork peeling away revealing the exposed and untreated iron underneath, the wheels locked solid by the corrosion while the firebox remained stone cold, blackened by years of fires blazing away inside.

Years ago when she had been on the streets, Charlotte hadn't had anyone but herself to depend on, and despite occasional cases of accidental magic, she had relied on her physical skills and her intellect more than anything else. But now she relied more on her magic than she had ever done, and she was now worried.

Anybody else - Weasley, for instance, someone who was raised in the magical world, and had never truly bothered to understand muggle methods or attitudes - wouldn't care. They would look at her as if she was mad now she was realising one of her biggest problems, but since people like Weasley had lived their whole lives in the magical world, and were used to it sorting out their problems they didn't know that it was possible to use their brains.

Charlotte herself had needed to use her own mind more than once when she was much younger, and as she jogged through the woods, Charlotte reflected on all the burglaries she had committed in her life, the ones where she had known about her magic and her heritage against the ones where she hadn't even known why the Dursleys were abusing her in the first place, and she came to the horrific conclusion. While her magic had made the burglaries much easier, whether it was because she was using her animagus form to break into houses, or using spells to clamber up walls and drainpipes whereas before she had simply used the hard skills she had learnt long before Hogwarts, Charlotte had always felt satisfied with the results.

Whenever she had planned a burglary, Charlotte had always felt like a painter who was taking things step by step, with the delicate pencil drawing starting as the framework - her planning; studying the mark, watching the house, timing their movements, breaking in to get an idea of the layout of the property if she was lucky enough to have a mark who was irredeemably careless enough to leave a French door opened and she'd have a few minutes to sneak in and have a look before she went in for her night or day burglary, the assembling of everything she would need before she began the burglary itself. They were the paint strokes, each one ticking off nicely everything she had originally planned.

And now she realised she hadn't made one of those plans in a long time - Umbridge didn't count, although the Tower of London and the Louvre came very close, and yet she hadn't used her intellect or the skills she had learnt before magic came knocking on her door.

And why not?

She missed those days. She missed the days where she would spend her time planning out, forming a strategy and then executing them all like she was a movie actress running through a script. Actually, Nah. She didn't like viewing herself as a mere actress, a director was more up her street… Actually that made no sense, yeah she was an actress - the script had been written by her, which was the simile hadn't worked.

Nowadays all she did was go to a house, wave her wand, she was in the place and she was out in less than a few minutes. There was no plan, little thrill… Nothing.

When Charlotte returned to the windmill, she went to the drawers of the dresser in the kitchen, and she went through everything she had in there, and she came out with a railway timetable and a local map of the town she lived in. She took both of them upstairs and she dropped them onto her desk before she went and had her shower. When she was dried, she had a nice hearty breakfast of cereal and fresh fruit before she went through everything in front of her while she kept her eye on the clock. She had a few hours training with the Founders' ghosts this morning, and she didn't want to be late. However, when she returned she would get back to her planning.

XXX

After spending four hours with the Founders, Charlotte was panting with exertion, although she knew this was more magical exhaustion rather than just being physical exhaustion. The Founder's lessons varied between teaching her much like the teachers in Hogwarts did, with them telling her things and practical work such as this where they helped her develop and enhance her duelling capabilities while encouraging to her to master a more varied spell repertoire and use of spells from different fields of magic; Slytherin explained it was designed to make her into a more unpredictable combatant, while Ravenclaw had countered it was to discover which field was working appropriately with the duelist.

The last one made sense. From what she knew of Flitwick, the Charms master used his skills with charms to even things out during one of his own duels, while likewise, McGonagall used her fluency in Transfiguration. However, Charlotte favoured both magical fields with her own duelling style, and the Founders always went on the offensive to make her a better fighter.

"You seemed distracted today, Charlotte," Hufflepuff commented.

Too exhausted, Charlotte barely managed more than a nod. Although she had managed to keep concentrating and focusing on the task at hand for today, she had been putting a lot more thought into what she felt she needed to do.

"What was on your mind?" Ravenclaw asked while Slytherin and Gryffindor looked on silently.

Charlotte closed her eyes and tried to push the exhaustion away, but while she had the words in her mind and ready to be sent to her mouth, she was still too breathless to get them out.

Finally taking pity on her, Gryffindor waved his hand and a bubble of moist oxygen appeared around her while conjuring a large glass of iced water for her to drink. Charlotte took the glass, sending the Founder of her former House a grateful look before she drank the water. Once she had drained the water and she had taken long deep breathes of the cool, moist air surrounding her, Charlotte felt fit enough to talk.

"You know how I went to Umbridge's house and broke in to get those books and those memories of her crimes?" She whispered in a hoarse voice.

"Yes, what about it?"

"Well, after I had committed the burglary I went to the Post Office in Diagon Alley," Charlotte panted, "but… I didn't lie to the server. I told her I wanted the package sent to the ICW."

"Why are you so upset about that?" Hufflepuff was puzzled, while Slytherin looked like he was beginning to understand her point.

Charlotte sighed. She should have expected the Founder of what was one of the most one-dimensional Houses Hogwarts had wouldn't have understood. "You don't understand. I have conned dozens of people in my time, lied to them, but in Diagon Alley yesterday I didn't lie to her," Charlotte hissed. "Hell, I could have wandered into the Ministry and shoved the damn thing in the ICW's office by making myself invisible or something. What did I do instead, I didn't use my brain."

By now Slytherin had absorbed what Charlotte was telling them, and he could certainly agree with her last part; sending off the evidence against Umbridge should have been carefully, and he couldn't help but feel disappointed she hadn't done more. "So what do you plan to do?"

Charlotte closed her eyes, and she wondered how the Founders would take this. These were not the real Founders, they were ghosts, memories imprinted into the fabric of the castle, but they were still witches and wizards and she had no idea how they'd take her mindset. "I'm going to commit a few burglaries and other crimes in London for the next few days, and I'm going to do it without performing magic. I'm going to leave my wands at home, so if I reflexively reach for one, I'll realise I need to go in with the tools of the trade instead."

"What? You want to leave your wands behind? Are you mad?"

"I can be. Look, years ago when I was committing my crimes, I carefully checked out the mark; I would look around the house and the wider neighbourhood, look for routes to escape; backstreets, back alleys. Ways to get in, how often they open a window at the front or the back, if they ever do. Do they own a dog, or more than one? Do they have kids? How long does it take to get them off to school? Do they work long hours, or do they work from home and are they only out of the house for five or twenty minutes?" Charlotte looked up at the Founders from where she was. "I've become complacent, too complacent. I don't want to just rely on my magical powers to help me get out of a jam. And when I went to the Post Office, I didn't even think. That's not a good thing for a thief."

Helga pursed her lips. She didn't like the thought of the girl they were training being a criminal. She glanced at her fellow Founders and longterm friends to gauge their reactions. Unsurprisingly Rowena looked pleased with Charlotte's analysis but at the same time, there was a degree of uncertainty which didn't surprise any of the Founders given how Rowena had grown up with magic all around her while she searched for the most esoteric knowledge imaginable. Godric was much like her in some respects in how he didn't like the thought of the implication the girl didn't want to be a witch anymore even though they knew that was far from the truth.

Salazar, on the other hand…

Helga knew, well they all did, how Salazar viewed muggles and their methods. However she had heard the displeasure in his voice when Charlotte had told them about the Owl Post Office. The Founders all knew Charlotte was something of a protege to Salazar, who viewed her as a girl after his own heart. To hear the way she had done something so mundane instead of something out of the box must have been disappointing for him.

Finally Salazar spoke, his voice low with curiosity and the Founders knew he was masking his inner feelings. "What do you plan to do, Charlotte?"

"I've given it some thought. Dobby, my House elf, will drop me off in Muggle London, from there I'll pick a few pockets before settling down for tonight with a sleeping bag, and I will sleep rough for one night. In the morning I'll board the London Underground, and go around the network. Once on the trains, I'll begin picking pockets."

"You're going to sleep rough?!" Rowena couldn't believe the foolishness of the plan.

Charlotte just shrugged her shoulders. "Trust me, a rough night and a coffee in the morning will keep me sharp for the job. I speak from experience."

"How often did you do that, sleep rough and then board the London Underground?" Godric asked in disbelief. All of the Founders knew what the London Underground was thanks to the Sorting Hat's ability to sift through the minds of the various students, and thanks to that ability the Founders had, in a way, seen the rise of muggle civilisation from the day the first students had been sorted to the present day. They knew what the London Underground was, and they were fascinated by the idea of the muggles to move massive numbers of their people through their city through tunnels, and it galled them magical people hadn't even come close to developing a similar idea.

"More times than I could count," Charlotte looked down as she remembered the various times she had ridden the Tube for the express need to pick some pockets.

She had chosen it for a reason anyway. It had been too long since she had last ridden on the Tube for this reason anyway, and she needed to know if her old skills had atrophied or not. At the same time, she had no desire to tell the Founders she planned on going out into London anyway soon after this while giving orders to her House-elves not to come for her until she commanded it or if they felt she was in danger. It was a bright, sunny day in London, which meant there were dozens of tourists. It was the perfect place to see just how badly her skills had eroded. In the open-air above ground, she could easily slip out of sight if they realised their pockets had been picked or not, and once she had done this a few times, Charlotte would see for herself just how bad her skills had eroded before she buckled down for the night.

She just wished she was looking forward to this, but after her stupidity with the Owl Post Office and her lack of foresight in that corner, she knew she would need all of her atrophied skill to pull this off while she hoped her skills hadn't atrophied as much as she felt they had.


	28. Chapter 28 The First Wallet

**I don't own Harry Potter, although let's face it if I did I would make a serious number of changes to the story. Hell, I would probably write alternative Harry Potter stories, what ifs? That kind of thing. I love those. Anyway, please let me know what you think of this latest instalment in one of my biggest stories so far. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The Hell of Fourth Year.

When Charlotte had been younger, it had taken her a long time to just understand how the art of pickpocketing worked, but now she was being forced to relearn the art, she needed to remember everything she had learnt as a kid.

And now she was almost in her twenties, she was having to relearn them again. She wasn't looking forward to this although she was happy to be going back to basics. Wearing a pair of glasses similar to the pair she had worn at the Yule Ball, Charlotte looked around at her surroundings, hoping she didn't get another Ronald Weasley who planned on swiping them off her face to expose the illusion. She wasn't worried about that, no-one here knew of about her or her past, so she didn't need to worry too much.

In the meantime she had the chance to look around Covent Garden; while the square itself hadn't really changed, and the London Transport Museum was still standing proudly, and the market stalls were still bustling as they had always done in the past, and there were one or two new businesses, it was still the same old place.

She had asked Dobby to drop her off in Covent Garden since the marketplace and the shops made it easy for her to look out for anyone who happened to put their wallets or their purses away carelessly. She checked her watch; Dobby had dropped her off ten minutes ago. Dobby wasn't happy about his orders, but since he and Winky were bonded to her, Charlotte wasn't worried about them disobeying her, and if anything did go wrong then she could simply summon them back. And in those ten minutes, she had seen a great deal; she had seen a policeman walking on patrol, but she kept her distance and she didn't dare pick anybody's pockets with a copper around, especially if her skills had atrophied.

Regardless of the policeman walking around, Charlotte looked around the part of Covent Garden she was in, smiling at the sight of the marketstalls. It had been a long time since she had been here, but while the city of London changed with new buildings and new people, they couldn't get rid of the traditions of places like this.

Her smile disappeared when she realised the copper had vanished, but she had spotted something good. A few meters away from her was a blustering man with an American accent, next to him was a woman who was likely his wife. The bloke was looking around himself with disdain on his face, the woman was looking around with the _'let's make the best of this opportunity' _type of expression on her face.

"I'm tellin' ya, I don't see n'thing 'bout this city which is impressive!" He said in a loud voice which made Charlotte cringe, especially since he was attracting some rather annoyed looks his way.

His wife noticed them as well. She began tugging on her husband's arm. "Now, stop it, Bill," she chided in her own accented voice.

Bill instantly protested. "Nah, why should I?"

"'Cause you're annoying everyone around you!" His wife hissed.

"So what?" Bill proved his stupidity by looking around unashamedly around him and his wife. "Guy can express his opinions, can't he? What's wrong with everyone, can't they see this country needs work?"

Charlotte recognised this Bill for what he was the moment he began talking. A man who was seemingly the king of his own little world. A man who had likely never ventured far from his home, wherever that was, in America, and judging from his comments he saw America as the only place on the planet worth knowing. His views about how Britain wasn't up to scratch also spoke wonders about the man, but Charlotte didn't care about his views, although she didn't like his obnoxious manner.

Masking her disdain for the blustering oaf who reminded her of a softer, louder, but stupider version of her late so-called Uncle, Charlotte studied this Bill and his wife. They looked like a well to do couple, really; both of them were dressed in casual clothes, but Charlotte could tell it was of expensive quality. She also noticed that despite Bill's constant unwelcome observations about Covent Garden and the people in it, he spent a great deal. The couple was collecting a new collection of knick-knacks, although whether or not Bill and his wife were going to display them or not, Charlotte neither knew nor did she care.

But she did see something. Bill was such an idiot he visibly reached out and took the wallet in his pocket out. And the wallet was so obvious and visible, it was like there was a bullseye painted on it. Seeing they were slipping out of her view, Charlotte followed them quickly while she kept an eye out for any other pickpockets who had been attracted to Bill and had witnessed his spending habits as well. She didn't see anybody whom she knew, but it had been a long time since Charlotte had been here, and it had been an even longer time since she had checked out the list of the newer pickpockets, but she didn't see the prominent ones she had known years before.

While she followed the obnoxious American, Charlotte grabbed a thick newspaper, not even bothering to grimace at the state of it, and she hurried after the two tourists, picking up speed as she did while she kept her eye fixed on the couple. At the same time, she kept watching in case she saw anyone moving towards them with the same intent.

She made her move quickly. Not once breaking her stride, Charlotte prepared herself. Holding the newspaper in her left hand, Charlotte waited until the couple was near another stall, and she walked quickly before the obnoxious idiot could buy anything else.

"Oh, I am so sorry!" Charlotte squealed in shock before the American could say anything else while she pressed her newspaper in his chest. "I wasn't looking where I was going-!"

"Why not? Y' see, this is what I hate 'bout Brits, always in a hurry!" Bill looked at her with such derision she almost broke her cover, his expression was so similar to Vernon's she almost murdered him out of spite. But she quickly got a hold over herself while she moved her body slightly so she could reach around him so she could get close to his pocket…

"I said I was sorry," Charlotte blocked the view with her body and she slipped her hand into the man's pocket. Keep talking….keep talking…. "I was just in a hurry! There's no need to be rude!"

"Rude! If anybody's rude, it's you!" Bill shouted, making Charlotte flinch at the volume. But her fingers were wrapping themselves around his wallet at the time she was speaking to him and slipping it out of his pocket. Now she just had to put it into her left hand. Fortunately, she just had to move the newspaper slightly to bring the two hands together.

"Bill, shut up! She didn't mean it!" Bill's wife looked apologetically at Charlotte before turning back to her idiot husband. "Why do you always need to blow everything out of all proportion?"

"Out of proportion? Ya shut the hell up!" Bill sneered disgustedly at his wife.

Charlotte sighed with relief when she pushed the wallet into the newspaper, and she wrapped her now free right arm around the newspaper. "No, you shut up, you ignorant bastard! I've been hearing from you all day, going off about how this country isn't like America. Get a fucking clue, Britain is not America, and contrary to what you might think in your little brain, it never will be. This is a country with its own traditions and ideals, it doesn't need a big mouthed bore like you telling us what we need!"

With that Charlotte stepped around the obnoxious bastard, and walked as fast as she could in case her words made him lose it enough to come after her, but she needn't have worried; she turned around slightly and saw the wife was having a go at her arrogant husband, and Bill hadn't yet realised she'd pinched his wallet.

Charlotte turned around and walked hurriedly away, and she didn't stop until she reached a Marks and Spencer across the road and a short distance away from the market. Once inside, she ignored the security guards and headed for the restaurant area. Once she was in there, she shut herself up in a cubicle and she slipped out a pair of opera gloves she'd bought only recently. The gloves were thin and could be reused later, and she preferred them to the rubber variety.

After slipping them on, Charlotte picked up the newspaper and the wallet wrapped up inside it, and she opened it. Charlotte had to prevent herself from whistling in delighted surprise. The wallet was bulging with money in British currency, that explained why the obnoxious twat had been able to buy everything around him. She slowly and calmly counted the money, and she found she had £1,700 in her hand. A good haul. She checked the cards, but they were American banks and were useless to her.

Charlotte pulled out a wet wipe from the packet in her pocket and she scrubbed it quickly before she pulled up a large sheet of newspaper and bundled the wallet in it. She hurried out of the shop, feeling significantly richer than she had when she had first started, but now Charlotte was left with the problem of the wallet. She found a way of getting rid of the wallet by walking into a fairly busy shop before she dropped the wallet behind the till counter.

Once she was finished, Charlotte walked out. It was time to find another pocket to pick.


	29. Chapter 29 The Difficulties in London

As much as I would wish it were true, I do not own Harry Potter. If I did then he wouldn't be the wimp who trusts too easily in the books and in the movies.

Please let me know what you think.

* * *

The Hell of Fourth Year.

"Excuse me," Charlotte walked up to a man, thankful she had changed her outfit in order to better fit in with her surroundings rather than just appear in her normal outfit whenever she got out in the city.

The man turned, surprised. He had a nasty retort on the tip of his tongue but when he turned and saw who was speaking to him, he instantly swallowed his words. He was a tall man dressed in an expensive suit with iron-grey hair. He blinked in surprise as the teenage girl dressed in a red jumper, black jacket and a shirt approached him while she held a map. However, the thing which had him entranced were her emerald green eyes underneath her glasses and her long, shapely legs which gave him dozens of dirty ideas…

"Yes?" He replied, pushing those ideas aside. Why did teenage girls have to be so sexy, and why was it they were more gorgeous than older women? He knew several of his age group would disagree, especially since they had foxes for wives, but he had always preferred younger girls with their smoother skin, and their more… adventurous dress senses, and while this girl wasn't dressed like a slut, she was still attractive.

The girl smiled at him, her smile making him more attracted to her while she held up her map. "Yeah, I'm trying to find Canary Wharf; it's on the map but I'm having problems seeing where I am on here…"

The man grinned although he did his level best not to leer at the girl while he took the map, making a big show of examining it while at the same time he tried to work out what he could say to the girl in order to keep her here and hopefully ask her out on a date; sure she might be younger than he was, but he hadn't lost his touch in all of his life.

"Certainly, let me have a look….," he said slowly, trailing off while he made a good show of looking over the map. In truth, he knew precisely where Canary Wharf was since he knew the area quite well, and he guessed this girl was new to the financial district otherwise she wouldn't need help. At the same time, he had the chance to look her over and daydream of what he'd like to do with her. "Mmm, we're here," he pointed at a spot on the map, "you take this left…. And then that right…."

The girl nodded, moving a step back while a smile played across her face. "I see, thanks," she said, grinning. She had an interesting lopsided grin, which somehow brought out her features in a way he found mesmerising.

The moment the girl stepped back the man knew he would need to step up his own game. He wasn't going to give up, especially since he would love to take this girl out to dinner, followed by a long night of sex.

"Anyway," the man smiled, hoping to snag her before she left. He was a successful banker, and he had become used to getting his own way over the years. Unfortunately deep down he knew, while he was good in his field of work and expertise, he was just awful with women and every time he needed one, he needed to get drunk and appear more confident. "Do you have any plans for tonight? I can show you other parts of the city…"

The moment he began to trail off he had realised was going to lose the girl and he resisted the urge to jump up and down in frustration at how unfair it was. Seriously, why was it he had never ever been good with attracting girls? Did he leer at them, was that it? Every time he schooled his face into a charming expression, was he actually sneering or leering instead?

The girl was staring at him. The man… he just frowned inwardly as he studied her expression. There was something there, a kind of unimpressed, pointed look sprayed with a molecule thin layer of amusement.

"Sorry, but yeah. I've got a night studying. Bye!" The girl said and she walked away, leaving him behind upset. It wasn't until half an hour later he realised somebody had picked his pocket, and when he would inform a police officer of the theft, only then he would realise who the thief was. By then it would be too late. The girl was long since gone.

XXX

As she walked away from the man whom she had just robbed, Charlotte mentally shook her head while a snort escaped her lips. Well, as far as pickpocket marks went, she'd had much better over the years but she had never liked hanging around the marks for too long. It was a recipe for disaster since they could discover they had a missing watch or their wallet was gone. As far as basic cons went, the misdirection pickpocket con was her favourite since it guaranteed the mark's attention was fixed elsewhere and not on the pickpocket's wandering hands. Usually, such a con - placing a hand on the marks' shoulder, holding out a map for them to point out a place you claimed you wanted to reach - only took a few minutes to open and close, and when it was finished and you had their watch or money, then it was a good time to just bugger off before they'd discovered they'd been robbed.

But that guy… Charlotte hadn't needed legilimency to even read his mind, she could see what he had wanted the moment he had locked eyes with her, which had only made the robbery easier for her to pull off; he had stepped so close to her getting into his pocket for his wallet had been a joy for her. He had been so insistent for a date, Charlotte had been worried the bugger might notice he'd been robbed. As she walked away from the mark, knowing it was only a matter of time before he noticed the wallet was missing in his pocket, Charlotte took a few moments to think. It had been three weeks since she had burgled Dolores Umbridge's London home and discovered she was a long way from being the experienced thief she had been for a long time and realised she needed to get back in the game, to recover her wits and her skills with basic theft.

Three weeks was a long time.

Three weeks ago, Charlotte had believed herself to be on top of the world, believing she was a master burglar and while she was good at what she did especially since she had been doing it for so long, she had lost sight of how she had gotten there.

Three weeks ago, Charlotte had made a serious faux pas with that damn post office and she had decided to sort it out before she made an enormous mistake she couldn't walk away from.

Three weeks ago, Charlotte had decided to go back to basics.

And over the course of those three weeks, Charlotte had indeed gone back to basics. She had committed a number of robberies by picking pockets, using misdirection, walking into her victims by accident, asking for the time, or, as she had done with that man back there who had worn his inner frustration on his sleeve, asking for directions. Occasionally she had slept rough on the streets, knowing from long experience gleaned long ago thanks to Voldemort's bloodthirsty desire for power and Dumbledore's carelessness how to survive, and then used the lack of sleep to keep herself alert during the next day.

Sure, while the first robbery with that obnoxious American dickhead had gone on okay, Charlotte had discovered it was not going to be easy with her other marks. The only reason the American had been easy to steal from was that he had wanted to have an argument and she had given it to him on a platter. Others… not so much. On the Tube, Charlotte had nearly been caught out by three or four of the passengers while she was distracting a few of the marks, but once she had been practicing her moves, she found herself getting more success than failures, but it was a 50/50 thing.

Burglary wise, it was much the same thing.

The good thing about burglary was it was relatively easy to go about instead of pickpocketing. All she'd needed to do was find a few houses, watch them, study them and see just how easy it would be to get in. She had found a house which had a massive metal pipe, and she'd managed to climb up to the open window. Granted the climb had been almost impossible due to Charlotte being so used to using her animagus form to get into places while she used her magic to help her climb in the past, and she had fallen once or twice, but she had managed to get hold of herself and she had climbed up and succeeded in the burglary.

After showing off her travel card Charlotte boarded the Tube and she sat down in a seat, still contemplating the last couple of weeks before she snapped out of it when she noticed, to her side, a young boy who couldn't have been older than seven or eight at least slowly sneaking a hand close to her coat pocket while he held up a large comic book to hide what he was doing. Charlotte waited until she saw his hand pull out one of the wads of money she was carrying from one of her victims. Noting his surprise when he pulled out the wad of money from her pocket and the expression he was wearing on his face as he had just struck gold, and quick as a cobra strike, she had her left hand wrapped around his thin wrist. The boy jumped, but he managed to keep control over himself so he didn't throw the comic away and he didn't scream. The fact he didn't cry out at all spoke volumes and she wondered how long this kid had been doing this to be this good.

She didn't care.

Charlotte leaned over him, already cursing herself for letting her guard down. "Good technique, kid," she whispered. "Next time, choose your target carefully; they might be a professional like me. "

The boy looked up at her, frightened. Charlotte sat there for a long moment, dragging the silence. In the end, she silently let go. "You can keep the money," she went on. "But find a burglary gang instead; you'll get taught a lot more, and you can make it a career so long as you don't get caught. Be cunning, full of tricks, and you will never be caught out. Now get lost."

The boy, unable to believe his luck, jumped out of his seat and rushed away. Charlotte sighed as she watched him go.

"I need a lot of help," she sighed to herself, disgusted with herself for letting her mind drift off like that. It looked like her problems were worse than she imagined. She stuck her hands in her pockets and found they were full of money and watches she had stolen from the marks she'd robbed from today.

"Damn it," she snarled, annoyed with herself. Now she was going to have to put them somewhere where nobody could reach without her knowing about it. It didn't take too long for the train to arrive in Central London. When she arrived at a stop she knew wouldn't be far from where she wanted to be, Charlotte got off. She immediately went to the ladies toilets and she took out the odds and ends from her pockets, mentally checking them off of her list in case another pickpocket had witnessed her successes and decided to relieve her of them, but she had everything.

After another - fortunately uneventful - Tube journey, Charlotte found herself at the station she wanted to be. She smiled as she took in the familiar sights of this part of the city. She walked into a shop and spoke to the cashier, an oldish looking woman with long grey hair.

"Hello, Ellen."

The old woman, Ellen, looked up at her in astonishment, squinting her old rheumy eyes at her. "Who are you-? Charlotte, Charlotte Potter, is that you?" Ellen suddenly laughed. "God girl, its been years! Where've you been all this time?"

"School, mostly. My parents enrolled me into their old school, and somehow they managed to track me down," Charlotte explained while she hoped Ellen didn't demand more answers. "I'm just returning to my roots. Ellen, is Tony in?"

"Yeah, he is. He'll be glad to see you. It's been a long time," Ellen got up and pulled Charlotte into a hug. "Please tell me you haven't been using other fences?"

"Nah, I'm just storing everything away for a rainy day!" Charlotte warmly laughed as she hugged the older woman back; Ellen despite what people assumed when they saw her, actually took good care over herself while she tried her best to look unattractive. It was a holdover since she had been raped once weans he had worn very little. "How's it going, Ellen?"

Ellen snorted and she pulled away. "Same as ever, although more kids are trying to pull fast ones on us. The Old Bill is also looking for various burglars in the city, ever since the day the crown jewels went missing and then returned."

Charlotte had to hide her feelings behind her occlumency barriers at the mention of the burglary she'd committed what seemed like a lifetime ago, but she was very careful not to let her expression of familiarity or smugness at a heist well done and executed appear; while she trusted Ellen, Charlotte had learnt over the years to be immensely careful about what she said about her crimes. While she could hide from the police and prevent them from finding her, Charlotte did not want any of her contacts to be compromised. Okay, she did not give a damn if people found out she was breaking into jewellery stores or houses in Essex, but the less, or the least in the case of the crown jewels, they knew, the better.

"How bad is it?" She asked.

Ellen sighed. "It's quite bad. The police have been giving a zero-tolerance policy, and they are cracking down hard on any reported burglary. The Queen and the PM were, by all accounts, pissed off when they heard what had happened to the crown jewels. They're pushing the police into cracking down on burglars in the city, and it's not just here, but in Manchester, Liverpool, everywhere in Britain."

Charlotte had been feeling a growing sense of guilt and horror with every single word coming out of Ellen's mouth, and by the end of it all she was now feeling horrified she might have caused problems for every burglar and thief in cities all over the UK. "Shit," she whispered, shaking her head. "So, what's going on?"

Ellen didn't answer immediately - she turned her head left and right in case there were invisible coppers in the same room as they were - and then she stepped closer to Charlotte. "Many of the grifters and major burglars have decided to lay low," she hissed, still thinking the walls had ears, "but I know there are a few jobs being planned-."

"Ellen? What have I told you about-? Charlotte? Charlotte Potter, is that you?" A man's voice spoke from behind, and the two women turned and found Tony standing in an open doorway although there was no way of knowing just how long he had actually been standing there. For all, they knew he could have been standing there the whole time.

Tony was a fence. He had once been one of the biggest grifters in his time before he had gotten tired of constantly confusing and misleading his victims, so he had become a fence. Occasionally he did break into houses and flats, but it was very rare. However, there was a legend about Tony, although Charlotte didn't know for sure if it was the truth or just a lie spun in his favour since she had learnt very quickly to be very careful about what she considered the truth. The legend went Tony had faked his own death and he had gone away for a bit before he set up shop again in London, except this time he was a fence and not a full-on grifter. For Charlotte, it would make sense since it would be seen as the perfect retirement, but somehow she couldn't see it since he regularly used his contacts which had been collected gradually over the years to help him in his operations. Okay, maybe he had faked his own death, but Charlotte had never gotten the full story and she doubted he would. His connections as a con artist had been a godsend for him since he was able to find the perfect deals. At the same time, Tony was often looking for new talent to be trained up. Once, a long time ago, he had done the same thing for Charlotte.

While Charlotte had become a burglar in her own right and it was something where you learnt by doing, there were dozens of burglars and other criminals willing to take on new talent and train them up. Tony had been doing it for a long time, and when he had found Charlotte committing a burglary herself, he had seen her skills and how she had crept, ninja-like, through a house and she had the right ideas of what to do and what she should be taking. But sometimes Charlotte believed the real reason for his decision to take her and train her up was because of her age and height. She wasn't sure if that was the case; she preferred to think it was because he had seen her and realised she needed training up to iron out the things she did wrong. Whichever one it was, Charlotte was going to be forever thankful to the man for taking her and giving her hints and tips on how to burgle, for taking her out and how to choose the right houses.

Charlotte grinned at him. "Hi, Tony," she said casually.

Tony grinned back but then his eyes crinkled. "While its good to see you again after such a long time, Charlotte, I don't want you both to talk about burglars or grifters; the coppers have been pressing people for a while, and while I doubt they know my operation, that doesn't necessarily mean its safe to talk."

Charlotte wondered how her old friend was going to take what she had for him. She silently reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of watches.

Tony groaned. "Oh, for fuck's sake! Leave it out. Charlotte, you've kind of chosen the worst kind of time for me to fence things."

Charlotte raised a brow. Silently she continued to hold up the watches.

Tony groaned again. "Oh, all right!" He said melodramatically, turning and walking into the backroom of the shop. "C'mon, then."

Charlotte grinned at Ellen while she followed Tony into the backroom. "Works every single time," she whispered impishly.

Ellen chuckled. "Fuck it, Charlotte, it's good you are back."

"I never left."

With that Charlotte followed Tony into the back room of the shop after walking down a dark corridor. She wasn't expecting anything to go wrong since she hadn't seen anything wrong with the body language of the two old friends she'd just met after what seemed like a decade. Finally Tony led her into what he called his office. It was not like the rest of the shop. The painting was fresh, a gleaming white which made it very bright. On the desk was a large desktop PC and there was a pile of Star Trek books there, one or two opened and left flat on the desk while held open by small paperweights.

With the large ornate couch lining the wall, the place looked like a stripped-down solicitors office who preferred reading science fiction compared to legal documentation.

Charlotte took a seat and watched patiently as Tony shrugged off his jacket and threw it carelessly over the couch before he began examining the watches. Charlotte watched him nonchalantly, knowing that one or two of them were likely to be cheap ripoffs of more expensive brands, but she didn't care. Part of the reason she had come here was to see if there were any burglaries that were going on, but after what she'd just heard from Ellen, it was unlikely there would be any major jobs.

"Authentic. Fake. Fake. Authentic. Authentic. Fake. Not a bad amount, although it's gonna take a miracle for me to get rid of them," Tony fixed her with a look. "I will need time to pay you, Charlotte. Somehow I doubt that's what you want, right?"

Charlotte chuckled. "You know me too well, Tony," she commented; while that might be a problem with others, Tony wouldn't be able to compromise her in any way that she'd consider serious. "And you are right. I know you hear things, and that you also fix jobs for people."

Tony knew what she was asking him. "You want me to check if someone's planning something."

It wasn't a question and they both knew it.

"Yes."

"It won't be easy, Charlotte. Thanks to that bastard who nicked the crown jewels and returned them, the police have been cracking down hard on burglaries in the city. Every single event and exhibition is guarded by teams of armed guards, and everything is checked and double-checked so then nobody can con their way in," Tony said.

Charlotte forced down the urge to punch Tony for calling her a bastard, but she could understand his frustration. At the same time, while Ellen had given her a nasty picture of what was going on with the burglars in the city, Tony had only painted an even nastier picture. Charlotte could understand the man's frustration, though.

"How bad is it?" She asked.

"Truth be told, if I were you, I'd commit a burglary of your own. It's likely going to take a long time for the police to become complacent again if they ever do," Tony said, adding the last bit almost as an afterthought but they both knew it wasn't. And truly that last sentence told her just how foolish it was to burgle anywhere big in London. Still, she had to try, she was never one to give up.

"Okay, but could you keep your ears to the ground anyway?" She asked.

Tony shot that down quickly. "No, Chaz. I told you it wouldn't be easy, but what I actually meant was the police are cracking down hard on the city. They are pressing every contact they have, and if they find anyone doing anything suspicious officers are hauling them in for questioning. Trust me, its not a good idea. The best thing you can do is either go abroad or take up something else for a hobby."

XXX

"Damn it, how the hell do you write a letter to someone who has thought you were dead but you yourself thought was dead too?" Lily cursed herself as she viciously scrunched up the latest attempt to draft a simple, straightforward letter to her long lost and heavily abused daughter.

She had known it would have been difficult even before she put pen to paper, but as each attempt failed after her initial spark of enthusiasm and inspiration died out faster than the dinosaur, Lily had nothing to show for her efforts except a growing pile of scrunched up bits of parchment littering the room.

She knew the problem was she didn't know what she could say in the letter that Charlotte would take as genuine. Even worse there was the chance Charlotte, in her current frame of mind considering just how violent and vicious she had been in the Tournament so far after her fourth year of Hogwarts had turned into a living nightmare for her, would send a truly nasty curse back to them for even daring to pretend to be her dead parents.

Lily could well understand if that happened; Charlotte had spent her entire life believing she and James had died shortly after they'd believed Charlotte was killed before that Halloween night described in the history book which had lauded Charlotte as this super magical hero when she was nothing more than an innocent baby. To make the whole thing worse, Dumbledore had shoved Charlotte into an abusive home when the celebrations for the supposed fall of Voldemort were taking place. Lily grimaced as she thought about the magical world, inwardly disgusted with the whole lot of them regardless of what James might deep down think.

They had created this problem, with their disgusting beliefs on blood purity. Allowing Dark Lords like Voldemort to come while sticking their heads in the sands and pretending nothing was going wrong while refusing to get off their arses and do something about it.

And since Charlotte had grown up on the cruel streets of London, Lily wondered just what kind of things Charlotte had done in order to survive.

There was no doubt in her mind Charlotte would have adopted the survival of the fittest ideas which went hand in hand with those kids who lived on the streets in every town, in every city on the planet. Eat or be eaten. Kill or be killed.

Steal or never eat.

Personally, if Charlotte were forced to be a thief, well Lily wouldn't like it, but then again what else would Dumbledore expect?

Thinking of her daughter's life and what she'd gone through…. Lily wondered what had possessed Petunia and Vernon into abusing her in the first place; her sister and her pig of a husband must _have known _Charlotte was going to go to Hogwarts. Didn't it occur to them Charlotte, after years of abuse, would come back armed with seven years worth of curses of the vicious variety, and kill them all?

Was that why they had done it because they were trying to protect themselves? Somehow it made little sense to Lily that Petunia would think of something like that without thinking through all the longterm consequences, but while Petunia was smarter than Vernon, she was blinded by her arrogance, her envy towards her own sister for being intelligent and beautiful at the same time. Tragically and predictably since her pettiness knew no bounds, Petunia had transferred those feelings onto Charlotte, who did not deserve it.

But surely it had occurred to Petunia they were making a mistake.

If that had happened, well Lily wouldn't have been surprised. Nor would she have shed many tears; she and Petunia had never been close, regardless of whatever passed for thoughts in Dumbledore brain, and if he thought family would never hurt one another, then he lived in some kind of fantasy world since she had heard many stories of child abuse over the years, and it killed her on the inside.

Lily closed her eyes and made a face, wishing she had put her arrogant sister in her place a long time ago instead of letting Petunia spout off her poisonous rubbish about her, or whenever Petunia went poking around in her room when they moved out of Cokeworth. If she had, damning what mum and dad said, maybe Petunia would have realised getting on the wrong side of another witch was a bad mistake. Then again Vernon wouldn't have cared since he was nothing more than a weak-minded thug who thought he was better than everyone else. She wondered just how Dumbledore was coping with the news Charlotte had not only been violently beaten, most likely for being a witch and during moments of accidental magic but had also been raped by that filthy animal.

She hoped they kicked Dumbledore out of his lauded occupations. And quick.

Dumbledore was responsible for this whole mess - the magical world had just gone along with it, while the old fool had lived in his ivory tower, believing he was the king of his own world, and Lily was going to be more than happy to reveal herself to the magical world along with James and their son, proving they hadn't died and had in fact been forced to quietly leave Britain after being conned into believing Charlotte had died when in fact she was still alive and was being primed into being turned into Dumbledore's little weapon.

Lily grimaced as she thought about the prophecy. She still couldn't believe Dumbledore or Voldemort would ever believe in something as ridiculous as a prophecy when everyone with a gram of intelligence in the magical world, rare as that was given how thoughtless so many people were, knew prophecies rarely went fulfilled, or they did get fulfilled during unrelated incidents without the participants even knowing about it. The Department of Mysteries had been studying prophecies for uncounted centuries, and they had learnt they weren't set in stone and it was impossible to tell when something was going to occur which ran concurrently with a prophecy.

Voldemort she could understand. Like so many insane megalomaniacs, he didn't want any kind of competition to try to overtake or displace him, but Dumbledore… Lily had given it a little bit of thought after sneering about the prophecy when she had first discovered its existence, and her only best guess would be Dumbledore had taken advantage of something he had heard, and he had tried to fit the prophecy around his manipulations.

Lily shrugged her shoulders and looked down at the piles of parchment around her. James had told her it might not be a good idea to send a letter, and it looked like he was right. Not only was she finding it virtually impossible to write something to Charlotte, but there was also the chance their daughter wouldn't believe it.

Still, she had to send something, something short and sweet…

* * *

Until the next time.


	30. Chapter 30 Having Fun

**As usual, I don't own Harry Potter, just this and the other stories in my collection. Warning of sex ahead, but enjoy nonetheless and stay safe. Please let me know what you think by dropping me a review, and if you have ideas for future chapters or Charlotte Potter stories, please let me know; but if you don't like my stories, then don't read them and don't spoil it for other authors. **

**I was hoping to update this one for Halloween, but thanks to the site developing glitches, it wasn't possible. **

**Enjoy - warnings of sex ahead. **

* * *

The Hell of Fourth Year.

After her meeting with Tony and Ellen, Charlotte had decided not to even bother with committing any burglaries in the city and decided to stick instead with pickpocketing. With the police force in London firmly clamping down on all burglary related crime, increasing their patrols throughout the boroughs of the city, it would have been pressing for even the best thief to get into a place and get out.

Tony and Ellen had made it clear to her the police were more paranoid with the robbery of the Crown Jewels, which had been believed to have been impossible for even the best muggle burglars but not impossible for a witch even at the level she had been in before the Triwizard Tournament had ruined her plans for this year. So, she decided not to bother with London at this point and she would look elsewhere to commit a burglary or two in order to retrain herself with using muggle methods and not magical.

She wasn't in a hurry. She had plenty of time before the next Task of the Tournament, and Britain was a fairly large place and she was searching gradually, using Dobby to ferry her around.

In the meantime, she decided to head back to Edgware Road, and see if there was anything new about the portkey readings. When she arrived at Edgware Road, Charlotte was delighted the old fear she'd had of the place which had started when she'd first visited it was now gone; now she knew a witch or wizard was involved, she felt more confident. With that in mind, Charlotte realised whoever had set the portkey could be there. As she walked into the park, Charlotte prepared to defend herself in case she encountered them. She grasped the handles of her wands, selecting offensive and defensive spells effortlessly.

She needn't have worried. When she arrived at the place where the portkey signature had been, she had not found anyone at the site. And there was no evidence at all somebody had even used the portkey or not. Charlotte still examined the portkey's magic, finding her own enchantment on it easily before she found it hadn't been used. As Charlotte continued to examine the portkey after she had erected temporary wards to prevent nearby muggles from seeing what she was doing, she had time to think about what she was doing currently with her life.

And she found it boring.

All she was doing was picking people's pockets and checking up on a portkey which may or may not be used again, and if she wasn't doing that then she was with the Founders, mastering magic which hadn't been used for centuries because it had been forgotten or the Ministry of Magic had been exercising their infinite intelligence and deemed it dark. But truthfully Charlotte knew, deep down while he was grateful for the Founders' help, she just wanted to be left alone, and have some fun like a regular teenager.

With that in mind, she decided to drop being a burglar for a while, although in truth she had been thinking of taking a break from theft for a while. What was the point? London was pretty much a no go area for burglars, and it was because of her earlier theft of the crown jewels they'd done that, and while earlier she had thought of going to a different city or town to commit a burglary or two, she found it increasingly unattractive. At the time she had been curious why.

And it wasn't a sudden decision, either; no, she had been thinking of doing something like this for some time, ever since she had quickly become disheartened with pickpocketing. She hadn't been able to face up to her realisations, then; but now she was in Edgware Road again, trying to find out once more who'd set the portkey, Charlotte realised she might never find out who had set it up and why.

In any case, it wasn't even remotely fun. That was the whole reason, really. She wanted to have some time where she wasn't Charlotte Potter, a girl split between two worlds; the muggle side where she was unknown barring to a few, a thief who started out from an abused orphan living in a hell of her own, believing her parents were drunks who'd gotten killed in a car crash (she still couldn't believe the shamelessness of the Dursleys sometimes, but what made it worse was how stupid they were; it must have occurred to them she would discover the truth, so why bother lying? Or were they so determined to destroy and crush her spirit they'd wanted to keep it up?), eventually managing to become an expert or the magical side where she was loved and hated by everyone for Voldemort's defeat while being seen as a hero.

She just wanted to be a normal kid, she wanted to have fun.

As soon as the thought occurred to her, Charlotte massaged her forehead, wondering why it hadn't occurred to her before. She looked down at the portkey site, and she turned around and walked off while she went through her mind for the places where she could visit for some fun. There were so many places where she could visit, so many diverse places she could visit, have fun and just flat out enjoy before she went back to the Founders, and while she was thinking about it, she had to admit she had dozens of opportunities where she could go out whenever she wanted.

Charlotte sighed as she pushed her wands away back into her holsters, and she walked away, heading back into the city, going over in her mind all the places she could go to for today. She had been trying, so hard to deny the fact she wanted to take a break from crime, she had been coming here regularly, but now….she found she didn't care who the wizard or witch was.

So now, she walked

As she headed for the Edgware Road Underground station (the Bakerloo station), she wondered about the places she could visit and as she checked the Underground map poster outside of the station itself, Charlotte ran through her mind the places in the city she could visit. The London Zoo. The London Aquarium. The London Transport Museum (actually better not, in case that obnoxious American twat was there, then again she didn't particularly want to see the antiquated buses, trams, and tube trains of London even if she was fascinated by the history). There were the art galleries, the museums… Nah, she wasn't interested; she wanted to have some fun.

Fun, as in, partying with kids her age instead of being told what to do by an obsessive old Headmaster, who suffered from so many delusions it was amazing he was able to walk in a straight line. Then again she had always loved defying Albus Dumbledore, who kept telling her she wasn't safe, completely missing the fact Voldemort and his followers were one, ignorant of where she was living. And if they were ignorant and Albus Dumbledore himself didn't know where she was living, how could she be in danger? At heart, Charlotte was a typical teenager who merely wanted to take advantage of life, spend time to grow as a person.

Two, keeping their heads down; with Voldemort missing somewhere despite coming back for her first year, and Lucius Malfoy's petty attempt to reopen the Chamber of Secrets, Charlotte had some leeway. Okay, she was a little concerned in case the Death Eaters came after her, but she didn't know how being with Dumbledore's friends who only showed her the minimum amount of attention and were only doing it because their boss/friend told them to care for her was going to keep her safe; some of them were so old, they tired out easily, and they didn't seem powerful enough to block off even a small attack.

In any case, she hated being a prisoner. She had been one prior to her life on the streets after she'd murdered the Dursleys, and her upbringing had given her a profound hatred towards being locked up, no matter what the circumstances. The definition most people had for imprisonment tended to be the same, really; people equated it to being banged up in a police cell or a cell in prison. Charlotte knew differently. Imprisonment could mean being locked in a house, where she was not allowed to even spend a minute outdoors.

She had lost count of the number of times that had happened, both with the Dursleys and several of Dumbledore's overzealous friends. The Headmaster was so determined to _keep her safe _he had forgotten she was just a kid, and as a kid, she just wanted to enjoy life and discover her boundaries, and Dumbledore was determined not to let that happen. It had been a joy when she had moved herself and Nightstar to the mill, and she loved being there where she was genuinely protected any the goblin wards. The goblins were experts at protecting people, and by warding her property and giving her blood magic jewellery, based on the shaky wards Dumbledore had haphazardly put up around the Dursley house, she was more protected than ever.

But even this year where so many things had happened which shook her up, Charlotte just wanted to have fun and she had a feeling when she told the Founders what she was doing, they would approve.

And if they didn't… well, they were dead, weren't they?

No, that was not very nice. The Founder's ghosts had been providing her with a huge amount of help and support. They were even going out of their way to growing her a new eye to replace the one she had lost when Susan Bones cursed her. They deserved a lot more than that, but somehow she had a feeling they'd approve of her idea of having a break now she was not going to commit any more crimes. Well, not now at least, she would in the future but for now, she was taking a little holiday.

Charlotte eventually headed out for Regents Park where London Zoo was. She hadn't really visited the zoo much in all the time she had been in London, and when she actually saw the animals, she realised what it was. The animals in the zoo were as much prisoners as she was. And it was heartbreaking; Charlotte flinched as she went to the part of the zoo where the snake exhibit was held. The snakes, and indeed all the lizards in the zoo, were kept in small enclosures that were not even a fraction of the size of their natural environment. And there was little for them to do; they couldn't hunt, they couldn't expand their territories. They were just….stuck here. Forced to spend all of their time here.

And it was everywhere. When Charlotte went to the part of the zoo where the monkeys and the apes were housed, she could see how…human the enclosures were, and she was sickened by how her own species were forcing other animal species into enclosures, transforming the zoo into a prison which was made obscene when children, unknowing and uncaring, ignorant children, laughed at the animals. Charlotte didn't need to imagine the animals' days; she could see the signs even from here and it was so heartrendingly painful, one prisoner to hundreds of others. They woke up, received breakfast, and they milled around the enclosure for a bit before settling down and stayed there in mind-numbing boredom all day.

Charlotte's sympathy rose each moment she was there, remembering every single time she had been imprisoned by Dumbledore and the Dursleys.

It was even harder when she saw the rarer animal species, and there were dozens of them and she could see for herself the shame of the human race just by looking at animals like the chimpanzee, the tiger, and on and on it went. Humanity just went out into the world, plundering everything around them, everything they liked the look of, and they destroyed the habitats of animals and the unlucky ones were ripped out of their own worlds and shoved in places like this.

At the same time, she saw herself, saw how the magical world and the Dursleys had destroyed her family, and they pushed her into a cupboard or with old men for her own safety without giving a thought to how her soul cried out for freedom.

Charlotte closed her eyes and she walked out of the zoo. She had made a big mistake coming here, but as she walked out she decided she would make it her life's mission to find a way to liberating the animals in every zoo.

XXX

As she laughed as she danced with some boys, feeling their hands on her body before she ground her ass into one of their groins, Charlotte couldn't help but be glad about how her day had turned out. It had started out boring when she had visited Edgware Road, and when she had felt her heart torn to shreds in that bloody zoo, but she had calmed down considerably when she had visited a cinema and stayed there for a good few hours.

After she had finished her movie, she had gone to an Italian restaurant for something to eat before she had gone home and changed into something appropriate for a party while she made sure she changed her sunglasses for the pair she'd worn to the Yule Ball, only this time she had added an enchantment to her glasses, so nobody but her could take them off.

She was snapped out of her thoughts when she the boy behind her grope her boob. She was wearing a boob tube and a mini skirt while she wore a pair of high heels. Charlotte's eye rolled back into her head, making her moan before she felt two other hands on her chest and one going under her skirt and into her panties.

"God, she's such a slut!" One of them said while she moaned.

Charlotte opened her eye, forcing the pleasure down and she smirked at the boys. There were three of them, and as she took a moment to go through their minds, feeling the drunken lust there in all of them and even fighting down the blush of what they'd like to do with her, she smirked at them.

"Why don't you take me to a place where I can show you how much of a slut I can be?" Charlotte asked.

She laughed as they took her out of the club, knowing she was about to have a great night. It had taken her a long time to get used to the idea of sex, especially after that muggle pig she had once called uncle had raped her, but after a while and with some self-counselling aided by their murders, Charlotte had grown to enjoy it. The boys took her to a flat they shared, and she'd wrinkled her nose up at the smell, but that was forgotten when she found herself kneeling in front of them while they surrounded her, their cocks exposed to the air. Charlotte grinned and licked her lips, and then she leaned forward, grasping two cocks before engulfing one with her mouth….


End file.
